


Did You Say... Husband?

by SamanthaNovak



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU - Modern, Amnesia, Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Minor Car Accident, Sam gets amnesia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-10
Updated: 2017-04-28
Packaged: 2018-10-02 01:12:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 35,486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10205540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SamanthaNovak/pseuds/SamanthaNovak
Summary: Sam is the CEO of a thriving business. Castiel is his newest administrative assistant and happens to be in love with Sam. When an accident causes Sam a head injury, Castiel lies to make sure Sam receives the care he needs, telling the medics he's Sam's husband. Meanwhile, Sam's brother thinks he's the one who should be running the company and is blackmailing Castiel to get it.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, I don't know what possessed me to try this... When I was in high school, my friend and I would go to a comic store that had a rack full of romance novels. I think the store owner's mother had collected them. I swear, my friend and I bought them all. One of my favorites was a novel called "Did You Say... Wife?" by Judith McWilliams. I was rereading it the other day and suddenly, it sounded like a great fanfic if it were Sam in Lucas's place and Castiel in Jocelyn's. I tried not to follow the novel word for word in my attempt to create an AU version of Supernatural... I hope this comes out okay.

** Memorandum - ROUGH DRAFT **

To: Sam Winchester, CEO of Winchester Enterprises

From: Castiel Novak

Re: My Resignation

Dear Mr. Winchester,

Please let this memo serve as my official resignation. I am sure you must be surprised at my sudden decision to leave but I assure you I have enjoyed being your assistant these last six months. The only explanation I can give you is, well, I am in love with you.

Sincerely,

C. Novak

* * *

 Castiel shivered as he gently pulled his final draft from the printer. The whirring it had made and the page's slow crawl out did nothing to ease his nerves. Slowly, he made his way from the printer behind his desk toward Mr. Winchester's office, futilely scanning the memo for any errors. Of course there were none. He'd reread it a thousand times before printing it, trying to delay the inevitable.

Mr. Winchester was already gone for the night, his office open but dark. Castiel suddenly felt like he was walking toward a monster's den, the darkened office waiting to swallow him whole. He glanced down at the memo one last time and sighed. There was no more delaying it. He had to give his notice and now was as good a time as any. The longer he pushed it off, the harder it was going to be.

He knew the layout well after six months and didn't bother to turn on the light. Easily crossing to the desk, he laid the paper on top of Mr. Winchester's calendar before turning and hurrying out. His coat was draped over his desk chair and he draped it over an arm, leaning down to shut down his computer before making his way to the elevator. As he waited for the elevator, he took one last look toward Mr. Winchester's office. Even though it was too dark to see, knowing that one sheet of paper was sitting there felt like a very large presence occupying the space around him.

The elevator dinged and the doors smoothly slid open. Grateful for the escape, Castiel hurried in, slipping his coat on and pressing the button for the ground floor. As the doors slid closed, he let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. It was done. In two weeks, he'd be walking away and he would never see Mr. Winchester again.

When the elevator reached the ground floor, he stepped out into the lobby, tugging his coat tighter around himself in preparation for the December chill outside. Lost in thought and focused on the white marble floor beneath his polished black dress shoes, he didn't notice the night security guard until he spoke.

"Everything alright, Mr. Novak?" the fifty-something man said. His tone was quiet and concerned but it still made Castiel jump.

Forcing a smile he didn't feel, Castiel met the man's eyes. "Yes, Bobby, thank you. Just not looking forward to going out in that," he said, gesturing to the snowy parking lot through the glass doors of the entrance. It wasn't an outright lie.

Bobby chuckled and brought a hand up to scratch the beard covering his chin. "No, I don't suppose ya are," he agreed. "Drive safe and keep warm," he offered with a warm smile that was almost paternal. Castiel knew Bobby Singer had no children and his wife, Karen, had died several years ago. He always enjoyed his brief chats with the gruff old man.

Castiel's smile grew more genuine and he nodded. "Goodnight, Bobby," he said before making his way outside.

He hurried across the darkened parking lot to his car, fumbling to grasp the proper key as the cold quickly chilled his bare fingers. Before he could reach his car, a hand was clamping down on his shoulder and spinning him around. He gasped and dropped his keys but his wide, frightened eyes turned hard and narrowed upon seeing who it was.

"What do you want?" he snapped at the blond, green eyed man smirking at him.

"Hello to you, too, Cas," the man said sarcastically as Castiel retrieved his keyes from the pavement.

"I told you not to call me that, Dean," Castiel huffed, stuffing his hands into his coat pockets to warm them. "What are you doing here? Your brother left hours ago."

"I'm not here for little Sammy," Dean said with a mocking tone. "I'm actually here to see you. See... I'm having a bit of trouble paying some bills," he said cryptically.

Castiel narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "And how is that my problem?"

"I need some money," Dean snapped. "Sammy's _got_ money. Get it?"

"Then why don't you ask _him_?" Castiel said dismissively, turning to head toward his car.

Dean grabbed him by the shoulder and spun him around again. "I _can't_."

"Look," Castiel snapped, blue eyes meeting green in a glare, "just because _you_ don't like that your brother inherited the company over you, and just because I happen to work for him doesn't mean you can put me in the middle. I am _not_ helping you take money from Sam. You do realize that if _I_ took the money, that'd be embezzlement-"

"Jesus, Cas!" Dean groaned. "I'm not talking about taking money directly."

Castiel blinked at him in confusion, tilting his head. "I don't understand."

"Do I have to paint you a picture?! Sam owns Dad's company now. But _I'm_ the oldest. It should belong to _me_!"

" _You_ didn't go to college like Sam did," Castiel pointed out. "I see why your father didn't trust you with it."

"Just because I ain't no college boy like Sammy doesn't mean I don't know how to run the company," Dean growled.

"Your father seemed to think so."

"Look," Dean sighed. "I'm pretty sure Sam forged a will or _something_ so he could take over the company. _Find it._ "

"Why would Sam do that?" Castiel asked, crossing his arms. This man was infuriating and he just wanted to go home.

"So he could have the company!" Dean snapped. "Jesus, do I have to dumb everything down for you? Sam knew he was the youngest and wouldn't stand a chance-"

"Sam went to college," Castiel interrupted, tone indicating how bored he was becoming with this. "You didn't."

"Look," Dean said, stepping so close to Castiel that the younger man could feel Dean's breath across his face. "Unless you want Sammy to know about the night we shared, you'll do as I say."

" _That_ ," Castiel snapped, "didn't happen."

"Oh yeah? I wonder who Sammy would believe if I showed him this," Dean said, holding up a sheet of paper.

Castiel snatched it to look at it more closely in the dimly lit parking lot. It was a photocopy of two different hotel receipts, both dated the same night. It had been a business trip Castiel had accompanied Sam on two weeks ago to New York. They were both dated the second to last night of the trip, before they flew back home. The first receipt was for the room Castiel had used. The second was for a room Dean had booked – putting both his and Castiel's names on it. Except Castiel had slept on the couch in the seating area while Dean slept in the bed, angry that his little scheme to bed his brother's assistant failed. That night, Castiel hadn't questioned why his boss's brother happened to be at the same hotel and had wanted to sleep with _him_. But now... he figured Dean had been cooking up this whole elaborate plot to get an in near his brother for some made up will.

"How's it going to look when Sammy sees these?" Dean gloated, taking the sheet of paper back. "I think that he'll think you checked of your room and into one with me for a secret affair _right under his nose_."

"That's _not_ what happened," Castiel growled.

"No, but who do you think he'll believe? After all, we may not get along but I'm still his brother. You're just a secretary after the family's money."

"What money?" Castiel snorted. "If this little blackmailing scheme is anything to go by, you have none."

"Sam won't know you know that. So do I show him this-" he waved the paper in front of his face "-or are you going to help me?"

He'd already turned in his notice. It's not like Sam knowing about the supposed "affair" and firing him would make much difference. The end of his notice would just be a bit sooner. But Castiel couldn't stand to have Sam thinking so poorly of him. And all over a _lie_. He didn't want an angry Sam Winchester firing him to be his last memory of the boss he'd fallen so deeply in love with.

"I can't promise anything," he mumbled. _Because there won't be anything to find,_ he thought.

Taking that as an agreement, Dean grinned, a smile that looked like a cat cornering its prey. "Thanks, Cas."

"Don't call me that," Castiel snapped as Dean swaggered toward a black Impala across the parking lot.

With a sigh, Castiel slipped into his car and started the engine then backed out of the parking space.

Why did his life have to be so complicated?


	2. Chapter 1

One week left.

He'd worked one week of his two week notice and each day felt colder than the December weather outside. Instead of the warm, friendly man with a bright, infectious smile, Sam had become distant and his tone clipped when speaking to Castiel and he only spoke about work now. He no longer asked about Castiel's day upon arriving at the office or offered to share their lunch hour. Instead, he stayed in his office or went out alone.

At first, Castiel had thought Dean might have shown Sam the hotel papers already. But Dean wasn't _that_ stupid. Castiel hadn't even had a chance to "look" for anything. Dean wouldn't get him fired before getting what he wanted.

No, Sam's demeanor was different the morning after Castiel left his resignation on his desk. It wasn't hard for Castiel to realize it was his leaving that angered his boss. It made sense though. Castiel had only lasted six months and had been well qualified and good at his job. He realized Sam must be upset to have to try to find _another_ secretary after a short amount of time.

He'd been hoping to spend his last two weeks with the boss he'd fell in love with. It had been why he'd vaguely agreed to help Dean – so he wouldn't have to endure Sam firing him. But he'd rather spend two weeks with a boss that was angry with him for leaving than only one more day with a boss angry at him for a false affair before being fired.

"Castiel."

Castiel jumped slightly and turned his desk chair to look at his boss stood in the doorway of his office. At six-four, Sam stood only four inches taller than Castiel but was more muscular. He wasn't large but he worked out regularly, his muscles well toned. His brown, shoulder length hair and clean shaven face made him appear younger than his thirty-four years.

Without waiting for a response from Castiel, Sam continued. "We need to be at the airport in an hour and a half, and I want to have dinner before we board. Before we leave, revise the forms for the merger and print out two copies to bring with you."

Castiel didn't even have a chance to say "Yes, sir" before Sam was turning back into his office. With a sigh, he quickly navigated through the files on his computer to find the contract Sam had requested. It was a thick packet and would take a few minutes to print and organize two full copies. Then he had to neatly store them in his briefcase among his other necessary supplies and collect his suitcase from his car and meet Sam at his. Sam had decided they would ride together. It would be easier than taking separate cars to a restaurant then to the airport and having to find one another.

Half an hour later found the two in Sam's car, following a deserted stretch of road toward the edge of town where the airport was located. Sam had said there was a decent place to eat near the airport so that's where they were headed. As Sam drove, Castiel fought the urge to look at his boss. Sam's lips were pressed into a thin line and his hazel eyes were fixed on the road ahead, not paying Castiel any attention.

 _I may as well not even be here,_ he thought.

Trying to distract himself from the tension in the car, Castiel thought about the meeting they had tomorrow with the CEO of a business Sam hoped to acquire. He didn't have to worry though. Sam was an excellent businessman and had grown the company he'd inherited ten years ago to almost triple what it was when his father ran it. Although Sam had gone to Stanford to be a lawyer, he'd proven he could handle running an entire business.

Pain stabbed at Castiel's heart at the thought that he wouldn't be around to see what Sam could accomplish in the next ten years. _Maybe you'll find a job that's just as good as this one and fall in love with someone else and be happy,_ he thought but it only increased the ache in his chest. He couldn't bear a world without daily contact with Sam, and the idea of being with someone else felt _wrong_. Sam Winchester had ruined the idea of anyone else for Castiel.

As they pulled up into a parking space, Sam glanced at Castiel out of the corner of his eye. How could he just _leave_? And with some lame excuse that he had to "find himself." He couldn't even _lie_ and say he found a new job? After only six months, Castiel was leaving? Six months of being a team, of all those weekends and late nights spent finalizing documents and talking.

He'd felt closer to Castiel than any secretary he'd had before _because_ of how they talked. It had felt like talking to a friend. So much that Sam had shared things with Castiel that he wouldn't have shared with anyone else in the office. Castiel knew that both his parents had died – his mother when he was only six months old, his father five years ago – and that he'd also lost his college girlfriend Jessica. He'd told Castiel how he felt scared sometimes that it was _his_ fault.

When Sam had first started running his father's company, he'd told himself it wasn't smart to date anyone he worked with; especially someone below him. At first, Sam had thought Castiel was the best administrative assistant he could ever hope to find. But all that time spent with Castiel had begun to change his mind. He'd begun to think that _maybe_ he'd found someone with whom it could work out.

But in one short, typed message, Castiel had shattered everything Sam had been hoping. He'd realized any interest Castiel had shown in him wasn't real. Any caring for the things Sam had so foolishly shared was a facade. Hell, for all he knew, the joy Castiel found in his job wasn't real.

Pulling into one of the few spaces left in the small parking lot, Sam cut the engine and got out. Rounding the car to open the door for Castiel, he glared when he saw he'd already gotten out. Fuming, he stuffed his hands into his pockets and stalked across the parking lot beside him. They were halfway there when he realized he'd forgotten his cell phone.

"Go inside and warm up," he ordered. "I forgot my cell phone and I want to call Gabriel before we board."

He turned and crossed the parking lot once more toward his car. Sam would only be a minute. It was the polite thing to do to wait for him. Besides, the cold weather couldn't chill him any deeper than the way Sam had been treating him.

Castiel was broken from his thoughts as a silver truck entered the parking lot, going way too fast and heading straight for Sam's car. A minivan made its way toward the same direction and Castiel realized they were both aiming for the parking space beside Sam. Only the driver of the truck was being far too careless. He didn't see a patch of ice and as he crossed over it, he lost control of his truck and it began to skid sideways. The driver managed to regain enough control to try to turn away instead of sliding toward Sam's car but it only caused the tail end of his car to slide uncontrollably. With the screeching of rubber on pavement and a sickening crunch of metal on metal, the truck slammed into Sam's car.

The silence afterward was deafening and all Castiel could do was stare in horror. At the sound of the crash, other patrons from the restaurant filed out onto the sidewalk. The din of multiple conversations breaking the silence broke Castiel from his trance and he ran across the parking lot toward Sam.

The driver of the truck was backing away from Sam's car and Castiel feared he'd flee but once he was far enough that Sam slumped to the ground, he jumped out of his truck and rushed toward them.

"I'm so sorry! I-I didn't see the ice a-and-" he stammered. Castiel could hear a faint Louisiana accent.

"Go call an ambulance!" he snapped, rounding on the man. He didn't want to hear any apologies. Apologies wouldn't change what had happened to Sam.

"R-Right," the man stammered before hurrying away.

Castiel knelt on the pavement beside Sam and quickly realized the blood pooling under his head was coming from a gash at his temple that disappeared somewhere in his hair. It seemed like quite a lot of blood oozing from the gash. Head wounds always bled a lot, right? That's what all those medical dramas always said. He didn't have anything to stem the bleeding though.

"Excuse me, I'm a doctor."

Castiel looked up to see a slightly overweight, bald man and a redheaded woman. It was the man that had spoken. Numbly, he nodded and the man knelt beside Sam and inspected the wound then looked at the redhead.

"Naomi, honey, get my bag," he said over his shoulder. The redhead nodded and hurried off.

"Don't worry," the man said, gently resting a hand on Castiel's shoulder. "Head wounds always look bad. All the blood, y'know?"

Naomi returned with a medical bag and gently nudged Castiel aside as she handed it to the man beside them. "Don't worry, dear. My husband's an excellent doctor."

The man pulled a wad of gauze from his bag and held it to Sam's head. Castiel could only watch in silence. He closed his eyes and tried to calm himself but it did no good. The image of Sam's pale face against the black, bloodstained pavement wouldn't leave. He may as well have his eyes open.

"The ambulance is here," he heard Naomi say.

He opened his eyes and watched as a red and white ambulance with it's lights flashing and siren blaring came near them. It parked in the middle of the parking lot and a thin, redheaded woman and a man with brown hair and a beard got out. The woman opened the back and grabbed a red box while the man jogged toward them. Not far behind was a back and white police cruiser.

"You're husband is likely going to need surgery," the male EMT said then frowned as he looked at Castiel. "I'm sorry, you _are_ his husband, aren't you? You don't look alike so I just assumed..."

"Yes," Castiel said automatically. He knew, as just a coworker, that he wouldn't have the authority to allow Sam to be operated on. But waiting for Dean – Sam's only next of kin – to get there would take too long. And given the encounter Castiel had with the man a week ago, he wasn't sure Dean would even _give_ permission. Not if he wanted the company so badly. "We work together so I don't wear my ring," he said to explain his lack of a wedding ring.

"It wasn't my fault, officer!" The sound of the truck driver's voice grated on Castiel's already frayed nerves and his anger snapped.

He rounded on the man, pointing a finger in his direction. "If you hadn't been going so fast, you wouldn't have skidded!"

"What's the name of...?" The female officer glanced down at Sam, brushing a strand of blond hair that had escaped her ponytail from her face.

"Sam Winchester," Castiel supplied.

"And that's his husband," the doctor supplied, standing and helping his wife up. "I'll be in the restaurant if you need to speak with me, officer," he said before leading his wife away.

"I swear it wasn't my fault, Officer Hanscum!" the driver insisted. "How was I supposed to know there was ice there?"

"Alright, Benny, go inside and wait for me there. Jodi," she said, turning to her partner. "Go sit with him and make sure he doesn't order any alcohol. I don't want his levels to be questionable."

"I have not been drinking!" Benny insisted as Jodi led him toward the restaurant.

"Did you see the accident, Mr. Winchester?" Officer Hanscum asked as Benny was led away.

"Yes," Castiel said. "We were almost to the door when Sam realized he'd forgotten his cell phone so he went back to the car to get it. I saw the truck approaching from one end, trying to beat a van coming from the other. He was driving way too fast and he hit the ice and skidded into Sam's car."

"How did it get off of him?"

"The driver backed up before I reached him." He glanced at the EMTs who had Sam on a stretcher now and were moving toward the ambulance. He saw the damage done to Sam's car then looked down and shuddered at the blood staining the pavement.

"Why don't you ride in the ambulance with your husband, Mr. Winchester," the officer said kindly. "Your car can't be driven now anyway."

He nodded and climbed into the ambulance once the female paramedic was in beside Sam while the male ran around front and hopped into the driver's seat. The woman took Sam's blood pressure then attached white discs to Sam's chest. Castiel wanted to ask what they were for but didn't want to bother her.

"It's just a precaution," the woman said, rewarding his patience with an explanation. "The hospital gets all the information and can begin treating him as soon as we get there. Does he have any chronic conditions?"

"No," Castiel said quietly, shaking his head. "He jogs every day and eats well to stay in good physical shape."

"That's good," the woman praised.

"How much longer?" Castiel asked then braced himself as the driver swung around a turn.

"Careful, Chuck!" the woman chided gently. "We want to get there in one piece."

"Sorry, Charlie," the driver called, an amused tone to his voice. Normally, Castiel would find the interaction callous to the situation but instead he found the easy banter comforting.

"We'll be there soon," Charlie said in answer to Castiel's earlier question.

Five minutes later, they pulled up to the hospital and several personnel in white coats swarmed the ambulance, quickly taking Sam away. Castiel felt relieved that they seemed to know what they were doing.

"Come on," Charlie said, gently taking his arm. "I'll show you where you can wait."

Castiel nodded and followed her into a small waiting area, gratefully sinking down into a nearby chair.

"I'll let the doctor know where you are," she said before leaving him alone.

He only had to wait a few minutes before a doctor was entering the room. "Mr. Winchester," he said, the hint of a Scottish accent tinging his voice. Castiel saw that the hospital ID badge clipped to his coat said Fergus McLeod. "I'm the doctor taking your husband's case. I've just seen his MRI and with your permission, I would like to go in."

"In?" Castiel asked numbly.

"Operate. I have to stop the bleeding," Dr. McLeod explained. "It's very fortunate you were here or we'd have wasted precious time locating the next of kin."

Castiel shuddered. Sam needed help and _now_. He couldn't bear to think of how long it would take to help him if they had to wait around for Dean. He took a steadying breath and met the doctor's eyes. "I'll sign whatever you need me to ensure my... husband gets the attention he requires." The word "husband" felt foreign yet natural on his tongue. For the last six months, he'd prayed for Sam to come to love him and now there was no chance of that ever happening.

"I know this can be hard," Dr. McLeod said gently, "but with a little bit of luck, your husband will fly through the operation and in a few weeks, all he'll have is a scar. Which, if he wants to, can be fixed with a little plastic surgery. You just try to relax. I'll send a nurse in with the forms while I go prep him for surgery."

Castiel nodded and sank into the chair as the doctor left. He tried to focus on the small television up on the wall as a distraction but he just couldn't. Instead, he stared at the wall and tried not to imagine Sam's face in that parking lot.

After an agonizing wait, the doctor finally strode in, his smile telling Castiel everything he needed to know. Sam had made it through. "He's okay?"

"Completely out of danger," the doctor confirmed. "I stopped the bleeding and as far as I can tell, your husband will make a full recovery."

"What does that mean 'as far as you can tell'?"

"Precisely that. I won't know more until he wakes up," the doctor explained.

"May I see him?"

"He's in recovery now but is doing well and we should be able to move him in an hour or so. I've had a room we keep for families of patients prepared for you. Officer Mills brought your suitcases and they're waiting in your room. Why don't you go rest and I'll come get you as soon as we move your husband," the doctor offered.

Castiel nodded and followed him from the room, willing to do anything that would allow him to see his beloved Sam.


	3. Chapter 2

The next morning, Sam had been moved into a private room. Castiel hadn't gotten much sleep the night before and when the nurse that came to collect him told him that Dr. McLeod had wanted to speak with him before he could see Sam, it had done nothing to ease his frayed nerves. The only reason Castiel could think that the doctor would want to see him first would be because the hospital had somehow found out that he wasn't really Sam's husband and now they were angry that they'd operated on someone without following the proper legal protocol. Castiel didn't care. He'd do it again if it meant Sam had gotten the care he'd needed right away.

"Mr. Winchester," the doctor greeted as he entered the waiting room the nurse had led him to to wait for the doctor.

The name caused Castiel to frown in confusion. If they had discovered the truth, why was the doctor still calling him that? If the doctor didn't know that Castiel had been lying, why had he wanted to see Castiel before letting him see Sam? Unless... Unless things hadn't gone so well that night and Sam was...

"Your husband is fine," Dr. McLeod assured, seeing the panic flit across Castiel's face. "I'm impressed with how well he's doing, physically. But in my experience with cases like these-"

"Please," Castiel said, holding up a hand to stop the doctor. "Please, just tell me. I don't think I can handle the buildup."

The doctor smiled warmly, having dealt with enough distraught families to understand. "It seems your husband is suffering from a bit of amnesia. We discovered it this morning when he regained consciousness. He should regain his memory in a week, two at the most," he assured.

"Amnesia," Castiel said blankly. "As in, he doesn't know who I am?"

"Not at the moment," the doctor confirmed.

Castiel shoved a hand through is already messy hair and sighed. "I don't know how to handle this," he admitted.

"He should remember a little more each day until it all comes back to him," the doctor assured. "Just try to keep calm and don't try to force his memory. And try to keep stress at a minimum."

Castiel bit his lip in thought, wondering what to do now. He couldn't reveal who he really was now. Not if Sam needed a stress free recovery. And Dean would be all over any hint of weakness, using it as a ploy to take the company from Sam. Besides, he realized, he didn't want to relinquish the fantasy of being Sam's husband just yet. He'd been given the greatest gift he could have imagined: a chance to create loving memories he could cherish once he had to leave.

"When can he go home?" he asked.

"He'll recover much quicker in a familiar setting, so unless unexpected, day after tomorrow," Dr. McLeod said. At Castiel's nervous expression, he smiled warmly. "You'll be fine, Mr. Winchester."

 _I really doubt I will be,_ Castiel thought, following the doctor out of the waiting room and down the hall. _Because as soon as Sam remembers who I really am, he'll send me away. I don't think I'll ever be "fine" again..._

Taking a deep breath, Castiel quietly pushed the door to Sam's room open.

Sam lay motionless in the hospital bed, his eyes closed, and for a moment a spear of worry lanced through Castiel until he saw the steady rise and fall of Sam's chest. He had a large white bandage on his right temple that covered half his forehead. A dark purple and red bruise marred his jaw, up his cheek, and disappearing under the bandage. He looked vulnerable like this, a description Castiel didn't like when applied to Sam who always exuded strength and security.

As if he could sense Castiel's presence, Sam's eyes fluttered open Ice blue met dim hazel though Castiel wasn't surprised. Sam was likely in a good amount of pain and probably on some strong painkillers. His eyes would brighten again once he'd recovered a bit. Castiel watched him, unsure how to proceed.

Squinting through the haze of pain, Sam studied the man beside him. Black, unkempt hair, blue eyes that Sam thought seemed to warm to be called "ice" blue, and full lips that demanded to be kissed.

A memory of the man in front of him giving Sam a bright smile flashed through his mind, the desire that smile caused making the pounding in his head increase to nauseating levels. He waited a moment to let it fade before analyzing the memory. So he knew this man. Knew him and desired him.

This morning, when he'd tried to ask the doctor some questions, all the man had told him was that he had a husband named Castiel – such a unique name – that had been in the hospital since the accident, waiting to see him. Is that who this was? He dropped his eyes lower, trying to remember if he knew this man more intimately. At his inability to remember, frustration washed over him.

Hoping he was right, he cleared his throat and smiled at the man standing beside him. "You must be my husband."

At the sound of his voice, Castiel's eyes filled with tears. "Sam," he said in relief. The sound of his deep, gravelly voice sent a shiver of want through Sam once more. "I was afraid that you'd..."

"That I'd forgotten you?" Sam asked. "You are my husband, aren't you?"

Castiel swallowed around the lump in his throat and nodded. "Yes," he said softly. "I'm your husband."

As his head began to pound again, Sam reached out for Castiel. "I recognized you."

Castiel laced his fingers with Sam's and placed his free hand atop their joined ones.

"What did the doctor tell you about my operation?" Sam asked after a moment of content silence. "He wouldn't tell me much this morning."

"You made it through very well and that memory loss was common with this type of head injury and that all we have to do is wait for it to return," Castiel explained.

"That's it?" Sam asked, sounding frustrated. "Just wait?"

Castiel laughed and the sound made a smile spread across Sam's face. "It doesn't work like in the cartoons when they just hit someone over the head to give them their memories back."

"No, I suppose not," Sam said with a chuckle. "Though it would be much easier if it did. But what am I supposed to do until then?"

"At the moment, your job is to rest," Castiel said.

"Seems so boring," Sam said and Castiel couldn't blame him. Sam was generally a very active person. Sure, he enjoyed times of peace and quite like anyone, but prolonged periods of staying still in one place were likely foreign to him. Castiel doubted he even liked resting when he had cold.

"Tell me how I got here," Sam said. "All the doctor would tell me is that I had an accident."

"He doesn't want you to stress," Castiel said.

"Not knowing is stressful," Sam huffed.

After a moment of thought, Castiel nodded. He supposed that made sense. "Well, we were on our way to the airport-"

"We don't live here?"

"No, we do," Castiel assured. "We were going on a business trip" – which reminded him, he needed to call Gabriel and see if he could smooth things over with the man they were supposed to have met last night – "for two days. You were going to meet the CEO of a company you hoped to acquire."

"You came with me on a business trip?" he asked. That seemed boring for a spouse.

"I came because I happen to be your highly qualified administrative assistant," Castiel snapped.

"Really? What about your skills as a husband?" he asked, easily switching topics.

Castiel's eyes widened in surprise at the double entendre. In the six months he'd known Sam, their sexual interaction had been virtually nonexistent. A question like that coming from Sam seemed very odd yet not unpleasant. Then again, Sam thought Castiel was his husband. Logically, there are _things_ that spouses did and if Sam thought Castiel was his husband, of course he'd want to know, to fill in the blanks in his memory. Unfortunately, there was nothing to fill in those particular blanks _with_.

"I'm not supposed to force your memory," Castiel evaded.

"Okay," Sam sighed, switching back to business. "So, we were heading to the airport?"

"And you wanted to stop for dinner first," Castiel smoothly continued. "We were at the restaurant but you'd forgotten your cell phone in the car. When you went back to get it, a truck going way too fast hit a patch of ice and hit you."

"A truck, hm?" Sam mumbled. " _Feels_ like a truck."

Castiel frowned in concern. "Does your head hurt?"

Sam waved off the question. "I'm fine," he assured. Though try as he might, Castiel's recounting of the incident didn't trigger any memory of it. He could have been telling Sam something that happened to a complete stranger for all the good it did Sam.

"I love you," Sam said, trying out the phrase. To his relief, it felt so natural. "I love you, Castiel Winchester." No matter how he said it, it felt right. Whether he remembered this man or not, Sam knew he loved him. It felt too right and natural to be a lie.

Castiel swallowed around a lump in his throat. When he'd begun the charade, he hadn't thought about how Sam would react to being told he was married to Castiel.

"Your turn," Sam said.

Castiel smiled through the tears filling his eyes. "I love you, Sam."

"What do I do?" Sam asked, suddenly changing topics once more.

"You're the own and CEO of a large corporation. You inherited it from your father ten years ago when he died and have since tripled its size," Castiel explained.

"Do I have any other family?"

"Your mother died when you were six months old and you have a brother." Castiel watched Sam closely, wondering if the mention of Dean would trigger a momery.

Sam sighed, having no trouble deciphering Castiel's gaze. "Sorry, I don't remember anything. Do I like my job?"

"Yes," Castiel said emphatically.

Sam frowned in thought as he studied Castiel. Had his passion for work strained his marriage? Is that why Castiel seemed uneasy when the conversation got personal? But now wasn't the time to be discussing any problems they may or may not have. Not when he couldn't remember anything about their marriage.

"Who's running the company now then? You?" he asked.

"No," Castiel said with a laugh. "I've been here, worrying while the doctor rearranged your head."

"Feels like he's still in there," Sam mumbled.

Castiel frowned. "Do you need anything?"

"No," Sam said dismissively before returning to the current subject. "If you're not minding things, who is?"

"Your vice president, Gabriel," Castiel said.

At the name, the image of a man a little younger than Sam with light brown hair and caramel eyes flashed through his mind. Accompanying the image were feelings of trust and relief. So the doctor was right, his memory was slowly coming back in bits. It was just going to take time.

"I've been thinking," Castiel said, breaking Sam from his thoughts, "about where you can recuperate." It had to be somewhere where no one knew they weren't married and somewhere Dean couldn't find them. If Sam's brother knew Sam had amnesia...

"Have you come up with anywhere?" Sam asked.

"Yes. You're cabin," he said. "It belonged to your mother's side of the family and when you graduated college, your grandfather gave it to you."

"Where did I go to college?" Sam asked, momentarily distracted from their conversation.

"Stanford."

"Wow," Sam whistled. He got a flash of a blond woman smiling at him and frowned in confusion.

"What is it?" Castiel asked, tilting his head.

"You mentioned Stanford and I remembered a girl..." Sam said.

"That must be Jessica," Castiel said quietly. "You told me about her once. She was your girlfriend in college. She, uh, died in a car accident your senior year. Drunk students."

"Oh," Sam said, trying not to think of the irony that he'd lost someone in a car accident and he'd just survived one. Shaking his head to clear the melancholy, he looked at Castiel once more. "So where is this cabin?"

"Montana," Castiel said. "A place called Whitefish. The doctor said you had a couple of days before you could leave so while you're resting, I can get clothes and supplies packed." He was also sure the cabin might need some cleaning. The two had spent nearly every weekend together on business since Castiel had started six months ago so he was sure Sam hadn't been to his cabin in that amount of time.

"Okay," Sam said. He didn't care where they went as long as Castiel was with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't remember anything about Rufus's cabin (I seriously had to Google Rufus to remember where it was even located!) though I do know Sam and Dean used it once. So, its description in the next chapter is just gonna be my own made up one of how I'm imagining a cabin.


	4. Chapter 3

Just as Castiel had explained to Sam, he'd used the two days Sam had needed to stay in the hospital to visit the cabin and stock up and clean. He'd found the key to the cabin on Sam's key ring. Clearly, Sam still loved the place enough to hold the key with his other often used keys even if he hadn't been to the cabin in months.

Castiel's estimation of the last time Sam had been to to the cabin had been proven correct when he'd found a stash of newspapers in a recycling bin under a kitchen cabinet. The date on the most recent one was dated in June, just before Castiel had started working for Sam. After being empty for over six months, the place had required a thorough cleaning. Castiel had brought cleaning supplies in addition to the food he'd brought with him and had set to work. The task of dusting and washing helped calm his nerves.

It was only a matter of time before Sam's memory returned; the doctor had assured him of that. When it did, how was Castiel going to explain his lying about who he was for so long? He was sure Sam would understand why he'd did it at first. Sam would understand Castiel's worries about Sam's older brother using the momentary weakness for his own twisted scheme. He wondered if that reasoning would cover why Castiel had kept up the charade. Maybe Sam would believe it if Castiel told him he'd kept it up to keep the hospital from finding out and trying to contact Dean to care for Sam.

Despite having calmed his worries for now, the drive to the cabin had his mind whirling and heart racing for other reasons. He'd never spent Christmas with a loved one and now he was going to be spending it with Sam, one of his dreams come true. But the knowledge that Sam could remember everything at any moment and turn his dream into a nightmare had Castiel on edge.

“Is something the matter?” Sam asked from the passenger seat, noticing the tight set of his jaw and the way Castiel gripped the steering wheel of the car they'd had to rent since Sam's had been too damaged to drive. “Are you tired? Perhaps I could drive for a bit. I must know how...”

Instantly, Castiel relaxed and a breathy laugh escaped his chest. “I hardly think a snowy dirt road surrounded by trees is the place to see how much about driving you remember.”

“Yeah, I suppose not,” Sam muttered, looking out the window. A tree stump near the edge of the road caught his eye as the car drove past and a memory of passing that same stump in a moving car flashed through his mind. Not surprising since Castiel had said Sam's grandfather had given him the cabin when he'd graduated. He'd probably made this drive countless times.

“Did you remember something?” Castiel asked, noticing his distracted expression as he gazed out the window, and felt a sudden flash of fear.

Sam noticed the tension return to Castiel's jaw as the other man watched him. It wasn't surprising, Sam reasoned. Being married to someone who couldn't remember you or your life together must have been as hard on Castiel as it was on Sam. He decided it was probably easier on Castiel's nerves if he didn't mention his brief flashes of memory.

“No, but I'm working on it,” he said before making his voice more cheerful and changing the subject. “Did we spend last Christmas at the cabin?”

Castiel almost said yes but decided the fewer lies he told, the fewer he'd have to keep straight. Besides, it just felt wrong to be lying to Sam. Well, more than he already was.

“We weren't married last Christmas,” he said.

“When did we get married?”

Quickly, Castiel tried to come up with a date that would be easy to remember. Halloween, he decided. This whole thing had a distinctly trick-or-treat vibe to it.

“October thirty-first,” he said.

“What kind of wedding was it?” Sam asked. He waited for flash of memory to come to him, of Castiel in a sharp suit, smiling brightly at him across an altar as they were married, sharing a first dance with the other man's body pressed close. But nothing came.

“We didn't really have a ceremony,” Castiel said. “We got a license and were married by a justice of the peace. Are you sure your head's alright? Maybe you should try resting.”

And stop asking questions he didn't want to answer, Sam drew the unvoiced conclusion. Did Castiel resent their marriage? Especially because it sounded like they hadn't had a traditional ceremony. But if Castiel hadn't wanted to get married like that, why had he agreed to it? A man as attractive as Castiel could have had any man – or woman? Sam realized he didn't know _exactly_ what orientation his husband was – he wanted. But he'd picked Sam. The realization filled him with pride.

“Maybe a rest is a good idea,” he conceded, not wanting to upset Castiel with questions any further. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes to block out the afternoon sun.

To his surprise, he'd dozed off lightly, only waking when the car lurched, getting stuck at the edge of the driveway before smoothly rolling up the rest of the way. As Castiel pulled up and parked, Sam took in the cabin. It was one story with a small covered porch and large windows that he knew would light up the interior beautifully. A memory of a fire blazing in stone fireplace flashed through his mind.

“Do you recognize it?” Castiel asked.

“No, but it seems welcoming,” Sam said. “Did we spend a lot of time here?”

“I've never been here, but you used to spend every weekend here,” Castiel explained as he got out of the car.

“Do you like the country?” Sam asked, unfolding his long limbs from the car as he stood and stretched.

“I don't know,” Castiel admitted, moving around to the trunk and opening it. He had used Sam's second day recovering in the hospital to go to both of their places to pack them both some clothes that they brought with them once Sam had been released. “I've never been out of the city.”

Before he could grab their suitcases, Sam reached in front of him and picked them both up himself.

“Let me do that,” Castiel quickly offered, reaching for them.

“I hurt my head, not my back,” Sam said. “Besides, you've got the key.”

Castiel pulled the key he'd taken from Sam's key ring out of his pocket and unlocked the door, pushing it open and stepping back for Sam to enter. Sam merely gestured for Castiel to go first.

“After you, gorgeous,” he said with a grin.

Castiel blushed furiously but stepped inside. They entered into a combined kitchen/living space, the hardwood floor, now free of dust, glossy in the sunlight. As were the walls and the exposed beams above them. To the right was the stone fireplace with a small seating area around it. A stone island stood to the left, separating the kitchen and living spaces. The appliances were stainless steel and the counter tops were dark granite. There were two doors on the left and right ends of the back wall. The one through the kitchen was open to reveal a glimpse of the bathroom. The closed one led to a bedroom.

“Wow,” Sam said as he followed Castiel in, drawing the word out. “You said my grandfather gave it to me? Did it come like this or did I fix it up?”

“I don't know,” Castiel admitted. “I don't know anything about your grandparents or how wealthy or not they were. If not, it is possible you fixed it up in the years since inheriting it.”

With one last look around, Castiel turned to Sam and frowned. He seemed tired despite his nap in the car. And did he sem a little more pale? Perhpas his head ached more than he'd care to admit.

“Let's see the bedroom,” he said.

Sam immediately perked up. “Now there's an idea.” His eyes swept over Castiel and the shorter man shivered. Surely Sam didn't think he'd meant...?

“You need to rest,” he explained.

“You rest your way and I'll rest mine,” Sam said. “And I guarantee you my way is more fun,” he added with a sensual smile.

Castiel didn't think “fun” could adequately describe making love with Sam. Earth shattering seemed more apt. But it was sort of his fault Sam had brought it up. He thought they were married, and he thought so because Castiel had told him so. But as much as Castiel wanted to, he couldn't justify sleeping with Sam like this. It would be like tricking him into it and would degrade his feelings for the other man, turning it into something dirty. Not only that, but he couldn't come up with a logical explanation for why he'd done it once Sam inevitably regained his memories. He'd be left to think that Castiel had so little values that he was willing to sleep with anyone or that he was so in love with Sam that he'd sleep with him any chance he had. Both conclusions made his stomach churn.

“The doctor said no strenuous activity. No lovemaking for at least a month,” he lied.

“A month?!” Sam repeated incredulously. “But we're married.”

“Then we'll have the rest of our lives.” Castiel forced the lie out. “Just be patient.”

“I don't really have a choice,” Sam mumbled.

“Why don't you lie down-”

“I just had a nap,” Sam countered. “Why don't I build us a fire?”

“A fire would be nice,” Castiel conceded, shivering as if he'd just remembered that it was winter outside. “Any kind of heat, really...”

“There must be a central heating system,” Sam said thoughtfully, noticing Castiel's shivers. “It's too big to be warmed solely by a fireplace.”

Scanning the wall, he noticed what looked like a thermostat nearby. Going to it, he opened the cover and turned it up to seventy. There was a rumbling and a radiator nearby kicked to life.

“Now for a fire,” he said, scanning the room as if expecting to find a lit match.

“How does one start a fire?” Castiel asked.

“You're asking me when I can't even remember my own name?” he asked, his smile and laughing tone indicating he was teasing. “But it stands to reason that I would have used that fireplace and if I did, then it also makes sense that I know how to light a fire.”

“Sounds logical,” Castiel agreed, nodding. “How do we test that?”

“I'll go get firewood while you find a starter.”

Castiel bit back the impulse to say he'd get the wood. If he kept hovering and restricting Sam's activities, he'd be bound to annoy him. He watched Sam exit onto a back deck through a set of glass sliding doors near the kitchen then began to look through the cupboards. He found the newspapers he'd discovered the other day just as Sam entered, carrying a pile of logs.

“Would these work?” he asked, following Sam to the fireplace.

Sam turned to him once he'd set down the logs, eyes narrowed thoughtfully as he eyed the papers. “I don't think I do it that way,” he said.

“What do you mean?” Castiel asked, tilting his head in a way that Sam found adorable.

“I mean, when I do something I've done before, it feels... _right_ ,” he explained. “Like my body remembers even if my mind can't. I don't get that feeling with the newspaper.”

“It can't hurt to try,” Castiel said, kneeling in front of the fireplace.

“I suppose not,” Sam conceded as he knelt beside Castiel and began arranging papers the other man crumpled with small pieces of kindling. Once they'd lit, he began arranging logs on top. Soon, a strong fire was burning. “A fire,” he announced with a grin.

Castiel smiled tenderly at Sam's pleased expression. He looked as if he'd just _discovered_ fire.

“All we need is marshmallows,” Sam added.

“Marshmallows?!” Castiel asked with a laugh.

“Mm, and chocolate and graham crackers,” Sam added.

Castiel laughed more and Sam decided he liked that sound. “I didn't bring those things. I brought food for regular meals. I didn't think of snacks.”

“There must be a store nearby,” Sam said.

“I would assume so. But you need to rest,” Castiel said more firmly.

“I'm not tired,” Sam muttered.

“But your head hurts.” It wasn't a question. Castiel could tell by the pinch in Sam's expression and how he seemed a bit more pale than usual.

“A little,” Sam conceded.

“How about a compromise. If you lie down for an hour, we can go into town and get the ingredients for s'mores and other things you'd like,” Castiel offered.

After a brief moment's thought, Sam smiled and nodded, holding out his hand. “Deal!”

Castiel grinned and clasped his hand with Sams, giving a firm shake. At Sam's frown, Castiel tilted his head. “What's wrong?”

“This doesn't seem familiar,” he said, eyeing their clasped hands. “I mean, not like talking to you. Talking feels natural whereas shaking your hand doesn't.”

“Probably because we don't shake hands all that often but we talk all the time,” Castiel offered.

“That sounds about right. Married couples don't go around shaking hands, do they?” Sam said with a chuckle.

“No, I suppose not.”

“They'd do something more like this,” he said softly, reaching over and wrapping his arms around Castiel and tugging him closer. Leaning his head down, he planted a swift kiss to Castiel's lips which had parted to let out a breath of surprise as Sam had tugged him close.

He wasn't sure if he was relieved or not when Sam quickly released him and stepped back. If a casual kiss affected him this much, what would it do to him if Sam were to make love to him? One thing was certain: the next couple weeks would be a journey into unfamiliar emotional waters; waters that could turn treacherous once Sam regained his memory.

For a moment, Castiel doubted his decision. Doubts that faded as soon as he looked at Sam. Despite the cost to his emotions, he couldn't turn his back on Sam. He loved Sam and Sam needed him. Nothing else mattered beside those two facts.


	5. Chapter 4

Carefully, Castiel eased the bedroom door open and peered inside. Sam was stretched out on the bed, sound asleep. He let out a relieved breath and his eyes locked on the rhythmic rise and fall of Sam's chest. The movement helped calm his fears which hadn't been far from the surface since the accident. He kept telling himself there was nothing to worry about; the doctor had assured him that Sam had sailed through the operation. He shouldn't panic every time Sam was quiet.

So why did he? He carefully analyzed his reactions and quickly decided he loved Sam beyond the point of reason. He was petrified that the doctor might have missed something, that there would be an unexpected complication, and Sam would just suddenly _die_ before Castiel knew it. Intellectually, he knew his fears were illogical but that didn't make any difference to his emotions.

Silently, he stepped back and pulled the door closed again. Sam wouldn't sleep for long. He better take advantage of the time to get some things done. He settled on the couch with the portable phone to call the office.

He had spoken to Gabriel before he and Sam had been discharged so the elder VP knew to expect a call from Castiel once they had been settled. As a result, he was put through right away. After Gabriel assured him that he'd smoothed things over with the man they had intended to meet, Castiel told Gabriel about Sam's amnesia, conveying the absolute necessity that he not tell anyone about it. Not only would it undermine their customers' confidence if they found out the head of the company remembered nothing about the company but it was important that Dean not find out. Gabriel wholeheartedly agreed, much to Castiel's relief.

He promised to provide Gabriel with regular updates before the two said their goodbyes. His next call was to the answering machine in his apartment. Working his way through messages from telemarketers and the library telling him a book he'd put on hold was in, Castiel was lulled into a false sense of security. Security that was shattered upon reaching the last message and hearing Dean demanding to know why Castiel hadn't called him with a progress report on his search for a will.

He took several deep breaths, reminding himself that Dean's threats were meaningless. He'd given Sam his notice. There was nothing Dean could do to him. Staring at the wall, he tried figure out what Dean might do if he ignored his message. He finally decided it would probably make Dean feel even more like he'd been treated badly. Like Castiel was siding with Sam in that it wasn't Dean's company to have. Technically, he was, but he'd learned that night in the office parking lot that reasoning with Dean wasn't going to change the elder Winchester's mind.

And, Castiel decided, having been wronged once more, Dean would probably try to do something about it. He wouldn't have any trouble figuring out that the two had attempted to go on a business trip and that they hadn't even made it to the airport. It wouldn't take him long to find out about the accident and that Sam would be at the cabin their grandfather had given _Sam_ after graduation and that Castiel would be with his boss. And once Dean figured that out, nothing would stop him from following them to threaten Castiel in person.

It would be far better to stall Dean, make him think that Castiel was cooperating so he'd stay where he was and leave them alone until Sam was well again. But what could he say? It should be something neutral. Something to let Dean think what he wanted. Looking at the phone in his hand, he decided he shouldn't call from the cabin's phone. Dean likely had caller ID and would instantly know where they were. Castiel wanted to keep him away for as long as he could. He could call from a payphone when he and Sam went into town later. Payphones didn't register on caller ID. At least, he didn't think they did.

"What's wrong?"

Sam's voice from the doorway to the bedroom made Castiel jump and he jerked around to look at Sam. His dark hair was slightly rumpled and as Castiel watched, Sam brought both hands up and pushed his hair back, tucking it behind his ears. He seemed more relaxed than earlier. A nap had certainly done him well, Castiel thought.

"Nothing," Castiel quickly said.

"Then why do you look worried?" Sam pressed then eyed the phone. "Who are you talking to?"

Castiel quickly set the phone down as if it had burned him. "I was checking my messages."

"And that makes you look as if you've lost your last friend?" Sam asked skeptically.

"I haven't lost you. You're right here," Castiel said, smiling softly.

Sam ignored the sudden warmth blossoming in his chest at Castiel's smile, focusing on how worried the other man had seemed. Something was wrong. "You're avoiding the question," he said.

"And you're imagining things." With effort, Castiel kept his voice light, teasing.

Something was going on that Castiel didn't want him to know and he didn't know what it was. It could just be that he didn't want to worry Sam. Or it could be more ominous, he thought, remembering his earlier fears about the state of their marriage. But he couldn't start reacting to something that only existed in his mind. It would only creat problems where there were none. The only thing he could do now was go along with what Castiel had told him.

"Anything of interest?" he asked instead, knowing there was no way to force the issue.

"No," Castiel said, fighting to keep the relief at the change of subject from his voice. He hated lying to Sam, even if it was for his own good. And he knew he wasn't any good at it. "Oh, I called Gabriel. He said the office is quiet."

"Did you tell him about...?" Sam trailed off, grimacing and gesturing at his head.

"Amnesia," Castiel supplied. "Yes, but he'll keep it to himself. He agrees that it wouldn't be good for business if it got out. Besides, by the time the story made its rounds, you'd be better and we'd have to spend our time assuring everyone you're back to normal."

"Promises, promises," Sam muttered and Castiel's heart contracted at his bleak expression.

"Promises backed by experience. Your injury isn't unique," keeping his tone matter-of-fact. He knew the best way to keep Sam calm was to convince him that Castiel believed he would get better, that his amnesia was nothing more than a temporary inconvenience.

"So you keep saying."

"And I'll _keep_ saying it until you believe me. Although, I'm sure you'd be better by the time that happens. You can be very stubborn."

"The word is _determined_ ," Sam said with a grin.

Castiel felt his mood lift at Sam's smile and the gleam of laughter in his hazel eyes.

Sam watched his lips curve upward as Castiel smiled, an overwhelming urge to kiss those lips flooding him. Why not? he thought. He was married to the man. That damn doctor might have banned making love for some reason that confused him but there couldn't be anything wrong with just _kissing_.

Sitting down beside Castiel, Sam gathered the man into his arms. Immediately, Castiel tensed. Why would he react that way to Sam's touch? A small whiff of Castiel's cologne tickled his nose, immediately banishing the thoughts. He instinctively tightened his arms, wanting Castiel closer. The warmth of Castiel's body pressed against him sent the blood rushing south.

Driven purely by instinct, he lowered his head, meeting Castiel's lips with his own. His lips felt softer than they looked. It felt this good to kiss, what had it felt like to make love to him? He felt Castiel's fingertips on his cheek and his arms tightened. Needing more, he traced over Castiel's lower lip with his tongue. Castiel shivered in response.

A shaft of pain suddenly lanced through his head and he instinctively froze, afraid to move for fear of making it worse.

Sensing something was wrong, Castiel gently tugged himself free enough to sit back and study Sam's pale face. "Your head hurts," he said as he gently slipped from his arms.

Forcing a grin, Sam said "I've heard of faking a headache to get out of sex but this is the first time I've heard of it _causing_ one."

"Kissing must fall under the heading of undue stress," Castiel said.

"Kissing you is incredibly exciting," Sam admitted.

Castiel felt a flare of happiness at Sam's words. But his compliment was meaningless because he didn't have any memory of other kisses to compare it to. Still, it was a dream come true that Sam thought he was sexy and desirable. At least for a few days.

"The pain's already gone," Sam told him. "It wasn't really a full headache. More like a sudden stab that faded as soon as it appeared."

"You're sure?" Castiel studied him, his head tilted in that way that Sam loved.

Nodding, Sam asked "Weren't we going into town after my nap?"

Castiel relaxed as the color returned to Sam's face. "If you're sure you're alright," he conceded.

Nodding with a soft smile, Sam stood and crossed to the fire place. He closed the glass doors then ran a hand over the stone around it and the wood in front of it.

"What are you doing?" Castiel asked.

"Making sure no stray sparks landed on the floor. Sparks can smolder for a long time before bursting into flames. I don't want to burn the place down while..." He paused when he realized what he was saying. "It must be my subconscious telling me what to do. Because I don't remember ever having done this before but I automatically did it. Anyway, the carpet is clear and the embers won't cause any harm behind the glass doors. Can I drive?" he asked as he crossed back to Castiel.

"No! But," he quickly amended, "tomorrow, you can try backing up and down the driveway and see how that feels."

"Probably like I'm fifteen and playing with my father's car," he said then blinked as an image of a sleek black muslce car flashed through his mind followed by the image of a man with black hair with gray in his beard and at his temples. The man's expression was furious but at whom and why was unclear. Maybe his subconscious had supplied the image in response to his comment about his father's car. Maybe that was an image of his father.

"You said my parents were dead?" he asked.

"Yes," Castiel said. "Your mother died when you were six months old and your father died five, almost six, years ago."

Sam nodded thoughtfully as if recataloguing the information. Finally, he smiled and said "Should we go?"

"Yes," Castiel said with a nod. "I want to get back before dark if possible."

Once they were ready and on the road, Sam pulled his wallet out and stared at its contents.

"What are you doing?" Castiel asked, taking his eyes off the road long enough to glance at Sam.

"Checking to see if I have any money to chip in to this shopping trip," he responded. "I have three-hundred dollars in here."

"Don't worry about that. I have a credit card. We'll use that and save the cash for emergencies," Castiel said.

Peering into his wallet again, Sam raised an eyebrow. "So do I. Two, actually." He pulled out a platinum American Express and a Visa platinum.

"The Visa is your personal credit card. The American Express is for business. Balthazar will kill you if you use it for something not business related." At Sam's confused expression, Castiel explained. "Balthazar is your head accountant."

"And this isn't business," Sam agreed, putting the cards away.

Not unless you count funny business, Castiel thought wryly. "Don't worry, your Visa has an almost unlimited line of credit."

"I take it we have money with that much credit?" Sam asked.

"One does not necessarily follow the other, but yes. You can buy almost anything you'd like," Castiel said.

Five minutes later, they rounded a curve, a picturesque village coming into view.

"Keep an eye out for a grocery store," Castiel said as he slowly main his way down the main road.

Once they found one, he carefully pulled into a parking space and cut the engine. As they walked across the parking lot, Castiel felt Sam slip his own hand into one of Castiel's. He glanced at their clasped hands then at Sam, the corners of his lips turning up into a sad smile he was thankful Sam didn't see. Walking hand in hand into a grocery store felt so domestic and _right_ and the thought that this was going to be ripped away from him made his heart hurt.

As they entered the store, Sam snagged a cart by the door, eliciting an amused laugh from Castiel.

"A cart? We're only here for the ingredients to make s'mores," he reminded Sam.

"You said 'and other things you'd like'," Sam reminded him with a smirk. "This is in case I find other things that take my fancy."

Rolling his eyes but not arguing, Castiel followed beside Sam, close enough that their arms kept brushing lightly as they moved. They found the chocolate and graham crackers down the cookie and candy aisle but had a little harder time finding the marshmallows. Finally, they found them then began wandering up and down the aisles, looking for anything else that might pique their interest.

"Do you cook?" Sam asked as they passed through the bakery section, eyeing a display of muffins. "For that matter, do I?"

Remembering Sam bringing in leftovers sometimes of dinners he'd prepared, Castiel said "I can't but you do."

"Then how are we going to prepare meals if you can't cook and I don't remember how?" Sam asked, finally deciding to add a package of lemon poppy seed muffins to the cart.

"I suppose we'll figure it out as we go?" Castiel suggested with a laugh. "It can't be that hard and with me around, you're hardly likely to burn anything down."

"True." Sam imagined moving around the kitchen with Castiel, cooking together. No memory surfaced this time which either meant they hadn't spent much time cooking together or his subconscious was on strike. "You've told me about my family," he said, changing gears, "but I don't know anything about yours."

Castiel shrugged. "There isn't much to say about them. I have a twin brother and my parents divorced when I was young."

"Are they still alive?" Sam asked.

Castiel nodded. "Except my father. My brother Jimmy has a wife and daughter and lives in Illinois near my mother. My mother Hannah teaches high school history and my father Michael served in the army. He died in combat when Jimmy and I were teenagers."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be," Castiel said, waving him off. "That was more than ten years ago."

After a moment of silence, Sam glanced at the meager amount of items in the cart. "Is there anything else?"

Castiel tilted his head as he looked at the items then shook his head. "I don't think so. As I said I would, I brought food to stock the kitchen for us while you were in the hospital." He'd brought up essentials like bread, milk, eggs; some cheeses; meats like beef and chicken; and other assorted items to create meals from.

"Then let's get going."

They checked out and took their items back to the car. As Sam placed the bag in the trunk, Castiel looked around them thoughtfully. He spied a restaurant nearby.

"Since we're already out, why don't we go to dinner tonight. We can cook tomorrow night," he offered, gesturing the restaurant nearby.

Sam turned to look then smiled. "Sounds good."

As they crossed the street, the light from a drugstore nearby caught Castiel's attention and on the corner near the drugstore sat a payphone. Perfect place to call Dean to stall him. But how was he going to get away from Sam long enough to call? Maybe... An idea struck him as they entered the diner.

"Sam," he said. "Could you order for us? I want to run a prescription to the drugstore"

"Why don't you do that after we eat?"

"If I take it now, it'll be done when we're finished. Otherwise, we'll have to wait."

Sam's first impulse was to say he'd go with him. He didn't want to let Castiel out of his sight, feeling better when he could see the other man. But maybe their forced closeness was irritating Castiel?

Telling himself not to be selfish, he said "Sure."

Relieved to have easily gotten his way, Castiel hurried from the diner and across the street.

Sam moved to the window so he could watch Castiel, frowning when he stopped at the payphone on the corner and putting change into it. Was was Castiel doing? he wondered. Did this have something to do with the incident when he'd woken up earlier when he found Castiel with the cabin's phone and looking so worried? Why stand in the cold to make a call?

Because Castiel didn't want him to overhear it, he concluded. But why? Any explanations he came up with made him uneasy. Especially when he thought about how Castiel had tensed when Sam had taken him into his arms earlier. Could their marriage be in trouble as he'd feared upon learning how they were married? But how could a marriage less than two months old be in trouble? Castiel had barely had time to get tired of him.

His head began to hurt at his speculations. And they were just that, he reminded himself. Just because he couldn't think of a harmless reason why Castiel would want to keep a conversation from him didn't mean there wasn't one.

Moving to claim a table, Sam decided that whatever Castiel's reason was, he had no intention of asking for fear of what he'd say. He didn't think he was ready to find out his marriage had problems. Maybe he never would be.

Castiel waited nervously as the phone rang. And rang. He sighed in relief when the answering machine clicked on, relieved he wouldn't have to talk directly to Dean. At the beep, he identified himself and told Dean he was working on the problem. Which was technically true. If Dean thought Castiel was following his demands, that wasn't his fault.

Feeling as if he'd managed to dodge a bullet, he hung up and hurried into the drugstore to drop of the prescription the doctor had given him for Sam's headaches.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know Michael is often Cas's brother but I already used Chuck (I wasn't thinking, okay?) so I went with an archangel with a normal sounding name so it was at least someone older than Cas.


	6. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, I think this is the quickest I've kept a story updated! Already halfway there, guys! Thanks so much for all the reviews and enthusiasm! I think that's why I keep working on this one. Makes me want to keep going.

“Look at that,” Sam said, pointing across the car to something on Castiel’s side of the road.

“What?” Castiel asked, glancing at the houses passing by. “What did you see?”

“The lights on that house,” Sam said.

“The Christmas lights?”

“Yes, they’re pretty at night,” he said and Castiel gave a hum of agreement. “I want some.”

Castiel let out a small amused laughed. “Who’s going to see them where you live?”

“Where _we_ live.”

“Either way, no one’s going to see them where the cabin is.”

“We will. I want Christmas lights,” Sam repeated. “Lots of them. Did you put up Christmas lights before we were married?”

“The only lights my family put up were on the tree,” Castiel said. “And it was a pre-lit tree so there wasn’t much with the lights that needed to be done.”

“Then you and I are going to start our own traditions,” Sam declared. “Starting with lights”

His words made Castiel’s heart clench and he blinked a couple times to will away the tears. He wished so badly that Sam’s words were true. That he loved Castiel, that they really were married, and that they were going to establish traditions to be done in Christmases to come.

Taking his silence as agreement, Sam grinned. “First thing tomorrow, we’ll go back into town and pick up some lights and anything we forgot.”

“Forgot?” Castiel said incredulously with a laugh. “I brought up plenty of food and we just bought enough s’mores ingredients to feed an army! Not to mention the muffins and other extra breakfast items. _And_ the three different flavored containers of ice cream. Do you realize before I checked you out, the doctor reminded me that you need to eat a healthy diet?”

“One should aim for a healthy diet over time, not for every meal,” Sam said before he realized the words were even coming out of his mouth. He blinked in surprise, wondering if that was something he’d learned or if he’d made it up because it sounded good. An image of a home gym flashed through his mind. He must have been a health conscious person.

“What do we normally buy for food?” he asked instead. The entire time they’d been in the grocery store, he hadn’t gotten any flashes of memory of shopping with Castiel. Was that a task he left solely to the other man? Did they have a division of labor in the household chores?

Castiel tried to think of what to say. He’d eaten with Sam at restaurants and from delis as they worked but he’d never been to Sam’s home. Then again, he probably didn’t remember what he normally did, and in the six months Castiel had worked for him, they’d worked late a number of nights. Taking a risk, Castiel said, “Mostly things that are easy or quick to make.”

“I’m guessing I work late?” he asked. It sounded like they didn’t get much time to themselves.

“You’ve been working late to finalize the deal we were flying out make before the accident,” Castiel explained.

Sam wondered if that was the cause of the unease he sensed in Castiel. Did the other man resent the fact that they spent so much time working instead of building a relationship? But Castiel was his assistant. He had to have known the hours Sam worked before he married him. Unless Sam had promised to work less once they were married and, for whatever reason or another, had gone back on his word? Which seemed hard to believe. Anyone lucky enough to have Castiel as a partner should be happy to spend as much time as possible with him. So why hadn’t he? Whatever happened before, he decided he would do things differently now. He would use this alone time at the cabin to build a better relationship with Castiel, to try to soothe those odd vibes he kept getting from the younger man.

“What other traditions should we start?” he asked.

Deciding playing along couldn’t cause any more harm than he already had, Castiel said, “Christmas cookies.”

“Definitely cookies,” Sam agreed. “I vote chocolate chip.”

“Those aren’t usually Christmas cookies,” Castiel said with a laugh.

“So? _Our_ traditions. We can make chocolate chip if we want,” Sam countered, grinning as Castiel laughed. He wished he could make the other man laugh like this all the time.

“Alright, alright,” Castiel agreed. “Chocolate chip. And decorated sugar cookies.”

“Like the kind people do with their kids,” Sam said wistfully. He imagined what it would be like to spend Christmas with Castiel and any children they had.

Castiel’s breath caught, imagining the same thing. Adopting or using a surrogate so they could have children with Sam’s warm eyes or his own bright blue. Or with Sam’s kind heart and his own determined spirit.

“How many did we plan to have?” Sam asked, dragging Castiel back to the present.

“How many?”

“Didn’t we discuss things like adoption or surrogacy?” Sam asked, tilting his head. Some of his hair fell across one eye and Castiel wanted to reach over and brush it back.

“We got married. We didn’t negotiate a contract,” Castiel muttered, wondering how to get Sam’s mind off of children. The subject was so close to his dreams that it was painful.

“Don’t you want children?” Sam persisted.

“Of course. I like kids.”

“I think I do, too,” Sam said tentatively. When the words felt right, he said even more firmly, “I think even four or five.”

“Think again!’ Castiel said.

“You said you liked kids.”

“I do, but I don’t want _that_ many. Just a couple so I’d still have time to do things with them. But I think wanting that many may be your accident speaking. Perhaps we should discuss this when you’ve got your memory back,” he said, knowing once that happened, Sam would never want to see him again. The thought sent a lance of pain through his heart.

“Maybe my accident is just letting my real thoughts through,” Sam said slowly. “But you may have a point.”

They finally reached the road up to the cabin and Castiel carefully pulled up into the driveway and parked the car.

“I’ll unpack and you can put everything away,” Sam said as he got out of the car.

“But I don’t know where everything is,” Castiel objeted, following Sam’s lead.

“And I do?”

“There is that,” he admitted. “What if we both unload _and_ put away? That way, we’ll both know where everything is.”

With the both of them and the relatively small amount of groceries they’d purchased, it didn’t take long to put everything away. Once it was all put away, Sam began pulling out the items for the s’mores again. Noticing his pale face and compressed lips, Castiel gently touched his arm to stop him.

“Your head hurts, doesn’t it?” he said.

“Just a little. Nothing to worry about,” Sam said with a dismissive gesture of his hand.

“Why don’t you take your pain medication and then we can both toast marshmallows,” Castiel suggested.

“I don’t like taking that stuff,” Sam muttered.

“I know,” Castiel said sympathetically, “but if you don’t, that pain is going to keep you up and you’re going to be tired tomorrow. Not only that but you won’t heal as fast if you don’t get enough sleep.”

“I wouldn’t want to do anything to disturb your sleep,” Sam said. Actually, he didn’t want to do anything that would keep the other man from sharing the bed with him. Even if he couldn’t make love to Castiel, he could still hold him. Just the thought of Castiel snugged up to him, his head on Sam’s chest, made Sam willing to do anything.

Disturb his sleep? The comment had the air rushing from Castiel’s lungs. Did Sam expect him to share the cabin’s only bedroom? More nerve wracking, the only bed? Then again, why wouldn’t he? Castiel had told him they were married. Married couples generally shared a bed. And Sam had agreed to the stipulation that they couldn’t make love. What would be the harm of sharing a bed?

“I’ll take the medication,” Sam said. “Where is it?”

“In the pocket of my trench coat,” Castiel said. “But maybe you should wait until after we’ve toasted our marshmallows. Don’t need you getting groggy around an open fire.”

“I told you that stuff was dangerous,” Sam muttered.

Castiel rolled his eyes and began looking around the kitchen.

“What are you looking for?”

“Something to toast the marshmallows with,” he said. “Any ideas?”

Sam closed his eyes and hoped an image would come to him. When nothing came, he decided he either wasn’t in the habit of toasting marshmallows or his mind wasn’t willing to cooperate.

“Nope,” he said finally, opening his eyes. “Have you ever toasted marshmallows?”

“Sometimes. When I was a kid. It was rare though. Usually only during the summer on special occasions,” Castiel said. Opening a drawer, he poked around before pulling out a two pronged fork. “What about this?”

“As a weapon, it looks formidable. What is it?”

“A meat fork. It should be long enough to protect our hands from the fire. We could share,” Castiel suggested.

“Sounds good to me,” Sam said with a smile, gathering the marshmallows, chocolate, and graham crackers.

Following Sam into the living room, Castiel went to retrieve his coat while Sam set their items on the hearth. He pulled out Sam’s prescription and put it on the end table so he wouldn’t forget to remind Sam to take it later. He had no doubt that if he didn’t, Sam would conveniently forget. He studied Sam’s features carefully as Sam began opening packages.

“There,” he said once everything was open.

Castiel settled beside him and put a marshmallow on the fork then offered it to him. He carefully held it in the fire, jumping when the entire marshmallow burst into flame. As Castiel watched, it quickly turned black and fell off the fork into the fire.

Chuckling, Castiel gently took the fork and put a fresh marshmallow on it. He offered it to Sam who gently pressed it back toward him.

“You do this one. Since you’ve done it before and I clearly don’t know what I’m doing,” he said with a laugh.

Nodding, Castiel reached it out to the fire. “Get a square of graham cracker and chocolate ready then,” he said. As soon as it caught, he pulled it out, letting it burn for a few moments before blowing it out.

Sam did as he was told while Castiel held the marshmallow in the fire. He watched Castiel blow out the flame, lips puckered slightly. He suddenly wanted to kiss them again.

When the flame was out, Castiel laid the cracker and chocolate on his thigh then laid the marshmallow on the chocolate, holding the fork in one hand and using the other to press the second square onto the marshmallow as he slid the fork out. He smiled and offered the fork to Sam.

“You try again,” he said.

Sam took the fork and put a new marshmallow on then held the fork into the flames as Castiel put together cracker and chocolate for Sam, his own s’more resting on his thigh. When Sam pulled his out and blew on it, Castiel held up the cracker for him, holding it while Sam copied Castiel’s method of marshmallow retrieval. He pressed down a bit too hard though and a bit of the gooey marshmallow seeped out one side. He quickly leaned over to lick it up, the tip of his tongue brushing Castiel’s fingers where they held the treat.

Castiel’s breath caught at the small contact and he watched Sam lick his lips. He wasn’t sure if that brush had been intentional or not. He took a deep breath to try to calm his racing heart. Then he realized moments like that might happen again. And they might be not so unintentional. If he kept stopping all Sam’s attempts at light flirting, he would be bound to wonder what was wrong. And that would create the very kind of stress Castiel was trying to avoid. Trying to keep Sam at an arm’s length would be stressful for him. He needed to find a balance between normal married behavior and behavior that he could justify once Sam regained his memory.

“Damn!” Sam muttered, pulling Castiel from his thoughts.

Sam was trying to wipe gooey marshmallow from his jeans, the chunk of s’more missing indicating it must have dripped out when he’d taken his first bite.

“These things are messy.”

“Hold on a moment,” Castiel said, setting his s’more on the box of graham crackers before rising and going into the kitchen. Finding a cupboard with dish cloths and towels, he grabbed a cloth and wet it then returned to the living room. Kneeling beside Sam, he gently began dabbing at his jeans. Fortunately, it was still warm and gooey enough that it wiped up pretty quickly. “I’d hate to see how hard that would have been once it had dried,” he said, settling back and setting the cloth aside.

“Marshmallows are mostly sugar, water, and gelatin,” Sam said. “It should just dissolve in a good soaking.”

“How do you know that?” Castiel asked, tilting his head.

“I have no idea,” Sam admitted. “I just opened my mouth and it just came out.”

His ability to come up with relevant information had to mean he was regaining his memory, Castiel realized with a sense of urgency. How much longer would he have with Sam before he remembered that Castiel wasn’t his husband? Not only that, but that Castiel wasn’t even his trusted assistant anymore? Grimly, he shoved the feelings of dread away. Worrying about the inevitable never stopped it from happening. It only spoiled the time you had before it did happen.

“Either way, it might come in ha...” He trailed off with a yawn. “Mm, handy,” he finished.

“You’re tired. Why didn’t you say anything?” Sam asked, tilting his head in concern.

“I’m not,” Castiel said, waving his hand dismissively. He spoiled his denial by yawning again.

“I should have realized,” Sam muttered in chagrin. “You were the one that took care of everything today and I’m the one that took all the naps.”

“You are also the that got out of the hospital this morning after having major surgery,” Castiel reminded him.

“It’s time for bed,” Sam announced, beginning to clean up. “We’re going to have a big day tomorrow putting up decorations.”

Castiel started to help but Sam gently waved him off. “I’ve got this.”

“If you’re sure,” he conceded, rising. “I’m going to take a shower before bed.”

“Alright, I can take one after you,” Sam said, heading for the kitchen with their things.

“Don’t forget to take your medicine,” Castiel said, moving the bottle from the end table to the island closer to Sam.

“I won’t.”

Castiel gathered his sleep pants and a t-shirt from his suitcase then went into the bathroom. Maybe while Sam showered, he could check the messages on his apartment machine to see if Dean had called again.

Once he was finished, he emerged from the bathroom, hair tousled and shirt clinging to his slightly damp frame. Sam eyed him with a seductive smile but thankfully didn’t start anything. Castiel wondered if his head hurt more than Sam would admit if the lack of comment was any indication.

While Sam was in the shower, Castiel quickly grabbed the cabin’s phone and settled on the couch to listen to his messages. There was one from Jimmy asking if Castiel planned on visiting for Christmas. Castiel deleted it. This call from Jimmy came every December even though he hadn’t been home for Christmas since he’d moved out. He only ever talked to Jimmy and that was once or twice a month. He didn’t get along with his mother and though it wasn’t fair to stop seeing Jimmy and his family, Castiel just couldn’t stomach going back there.

Once the message from Jimmy was deleted, the only other message began and Castiel’s skin began to crawl. It was from Dean and by the way the usually deep voice was low and nearly _growling_ , Dean was not happy. He demanded to know why Castiel hadn’t found a will yet and why he wasn’t answering Dean’s calls. Adding that avoiding him wasn’t going to work, he finished with a litany of things he was going to do to Castiel if he didn’t start producing results.

Castiel shut off the phone and started down at it with a sigh, trying to figure out how to stall Dean long enough for Sam to regain his memory.

Dean wanted a will. What would happen if Castiel forged one? Dean would probably take it and run to a lawyer to do whatever people did with wills. With any luck, it would take months to figure out it was fake and by then, Sam would be himself again. Dean would be livid at having been tricked which was a plus as far as Castiel was concerned. Then again, Sam would probably be angry, too, he conceded. Sam was a proud man and he wouldn’t like the publicity a supposed second will would bring. Not only that, but he’d have to spend money on lawyers’ fees to counter Dean’s claims.

Besides, Castiel didn’t even know how to go about forging a will to begin with. It’s not like he could go to a lawyer and _ask_ for one. Even if he passed it off as an elaborate practical joke, no lawyer would risk his license doing something like that. He wouldn’t blame them either. If he had his choice, he wouldn’t be mixed up in this mess either.

“Damn,” he muttered. There had to be something he could do about Dean. Something that didn’t involve breaking the law. Or worrying Sam.

Sam paused in the bathroom doorway, frowning as he watched Castiel. Castiel was staring down at the phone, his expression an odd combination of fear and anger. Who had he been calling? And what had they said that had gotten this reaction? He felt a surge of anger at the thought of anyone upsetting Castiel.

“Did we get a call?” he asked, trying to sound casually interested.

“No, I was checking my messages again,” Castiel said, setting the phone aside. “My brother called, asking if I was going home for Christmas.”

“Do you want to go?” he asked, trying to ignore the panicky feeling in his chest. He didn’t want Castiel to leave him alone but even if visiting families together is what couples did, he couldn’t remember ever meeting Castiel’s and the first meeting of a partner was always nerve wracking. “Have I met your family?”

“No,” Castiel sighed and scrubbed his hands over his face. “Jimmy does this every year. I haven’t been home since I moved out but he always asks. The next time we talk, we’ll both act as if he never asked.”

If Castiel didn’t want to go, then why did he look so upset? From the sound of it, he hadn’t seen his family in maybe ten years and had sporadic contact with his twin. Was the separation all Castiel’s doing? If so, why would he continue to speak to his brother? Maybe it was just his mother he had the problem with. And if it _was_ intentional on Castiel’s part and the message from Jimmy wasn’t what was bothering him, was there a second message? Was there another man Castiel was seeing?

Get a grip, Winchester, he chided himself. You’ve only been married two months. There hasn’t been time for him to find someone else. It has to be something else that’s bothering him. But what it could be was the question.

He rubbed his head as it responded to his anxiety by throbbing.

“Your head hurts again,” Castiel said, noting the action. “Did you take your medicine?”

“Yes, I did, and yes, my head hurts,” Sam muttered. “Come on, let’s go to bed.”

Castiel closed his eyes on the wave of longing that surged through him. He’d spent the last six months dreaming of going to bed with Sam and now he was actually going to do it. But instead of it being a wonderful experience, it was going to be torture because he was going to have to hide what he really felt. He just hoped he was strong enough to do it.


	7. Chapter 6

The next morning, a particularly persistent sunbeam woke Castiel. He tugged the blanket up enough to shield his eyes before slowly opening them. A glance at the clock beside the bed told him it was far too early to be awake. Tonight before bed, he’d be sure to lower the blinds _and_ draw the curtains.

Burrowing deeper into the blanket, he felt warmer and safer. A peek out one opened eye reminded him why. He and Sam were pressed together from shoulder to thigh, the taller man all firm muscle. It felt fantastic. The faint traces of his scent were trapped under the heavy blanket and Castiel took a deep breath to try to name it. He couldn’t. The closest he could get was masculine. The faint traces of Sam’s cologne mingled with the underlying clean scent that was uniquely Sam. The realization that he was never going to smell this again dimmed the pleasure of it.

Cautiously, he eased himself out of bed, careful not to wake Sam. He paused by the side of the bed to watch Sam sleep for a moment. Sam’s hair had fallen across his forehead, obscuring the scar there. Castiel’s eyes wandered down Sam’s features, lingering at the stubble on his jaw and his fingers twitched to feel it scratch against his skin.

Sam turned slightly, sighing in his sleep and Castiel froze. He didn’t want Sam to wake and catch him staring. But Sam settled again and Castiel let out a soft breath of relief. He quickly grabbed a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt and hurried into the bathroom to change. A morning workout sounded like a good idea. Especially with what Sam wanted to do today. He had the feeling he’d spend most of it climbing up up to the roof to hang Christmas lights because no way was he letting Sam do it. No matter what Sam said.

Once he was dressed, he went to check the heat, rubbing his bare arms in an attempt to warm them. As he’d suspected, Sam had turned the heat down the night before and he turned it back up. Then he went to the kitchen to make coffee before returning to the living room to begin his yoga.

He was nearly finished when a noise from the bedroom caught his attention and he turned to see Sam standing in the doorway. He wore a pair of jeans and a green sweater that made his hazel eyes seem brighter. Castiel wished he had the right to abandon his yoga in favor of greeting him the way a husband would at the sight of the absolutely gorgeous man.

“What are you doing?” Sam asked curiously as he came further into the room.

“Yoga.”

Sam stared at the wall for a moment, giving his mind a chance to present him with a familiar image of Castiel doing yoga on another occasion. It didn’t cooperate. “Why?” he finally asked.

“Exercise is good for you. And yoga is calming,” Castiel explained.

“Do I exercise with you?” Sam asked.

“No, you jog.”

This time, his mind supplied him with an image of him running. He seemed to be on a park trail. Earbuds rested in his ears and the cord disappeared into the pocket of his shorts where his phone played music. The image wasn’t as appealing as Castiel doing yoga in a warm, cozy living room.

“Do I know how to do yoga?” he asked.

“No.” Castiel wasn’t sure of the fact but Sam had only ever mentioned running so he felt safe in assuming Sam didn’t do yoga.

“Well, I certainly can’t run with all that snow on the ground,” Sam muttered. “Maybe I could try what you’re doing instead. It doesn’t look hard.” He watched as Castiel came out of one pose and moved into another. “You just seem to flow from one movement into another”

“ _Seem_ being the operative word,” Castiel said with a grin. “This isn’t yoga like most people think of it.”

Sam came closer to him and studied the way Castiel dropped one foot back and bent his front knee, extending an arm out in front of him and one behind him. Then he tilted himself back a bit so his front hand pointed at the ceiling and his back hand pointed at the floor. “I bet I can do that,” he said.

He quickly copied Castiel’s movement, frowning slightly as he looked over at him. “What is the point of this one?”

“It’s meant to flow seamlessly with the rest of the workout,” Castiel said, tipping back upright and stepping forward only to drop the other foot back and repeat the pose.

Frowning, Sam straightened and shook his head. “Maybe next time, I’ll start when you do then.”

Castiel chuckled. As he continued his routine, he glanced at Sam. “How’s your head?”

“Fine,” Sam said with a shrug then grinned. “Probably be better once I’ve had some of that coffee I can smell.”

“Nothing’s stopping you,” Castiel said with a smile. “I’ve had some.”

Sam went into the kitchen and poured himself a cup of coffee then returned to the living room to watch Castiel finish. At the end, he wound up lying on the floor, breathing evenly. Sam set his cup on the coffee table then moved to stand beside Castiel, peering down at him.

“What is the point of this part?”

Without opening his eyes or moving, Castiel spoke quietly. “It is to give your body a moment to wind down and to clear your mind before continuing your day.”

Sam smiled and quickly lied down beside him. “This part is easy.”

After a moment, Castiel took a deep breath and slowly sat up then turned to smile at Sam. Sam smiled back and tilted his head slightly. Without warning, he reached over and tugged Castiel down against his chest. The smaller man let out a squeak of surprise and braced his hands on the floor beside Sam’s head while Sam hastily wrapped his arms firmly around Castiel.

Castiel opened his mouth to ask what Sam was doing when the absolute ridiculousness of the question hit him. It was obvious what Sam was going to do. He was going to kiss Castiel. The real question was whether he was going to enjoy it or retreat. He felt Sam’s long fingers card through his hair then cup the back of his head. His fingers gently pressed into Castiel’s head, drawing him closer.

Shivers coursed through him as his eyes focused on Sam’s lips. He wanted this so badly. Unconsciously, he relaxed slightly as Sam pulled him down closer. Castiel didn’t know why but at this moment, Sam wanted him.

As his lips met Sam’s, he stopped thinking and started feeling, allowing his emotions to swirl through him. A tiny whimper of pleasure escaped him and he felt Sam’s arms tighten momentarily before he released Castiel and rolled away.

Getting to his feet, Sam walked over to the island, placing his palms flat on its surface.

Castiel took several deep breaths and tried to think. Why had Sam kissed him in the first place? And why had he released Castiel as suddenly as he had? He stared at the rigid line of his back, down his hips and long legs. He looked tense. Was it because of the kiss or something else entirely?

Shaking his head, Castiel banished the line of thought. He wouldn’t know what was wrong without asking and he couldn’t do that. Asking a man who was supposed to be your husband if he was affected by your kiss would seem strange even for someone who had lost their memories.

Slowly, he rose to his feet.

“Do you want me to make breakfast?” Sam asked, finally straightening.

Gratefully, Castiel followed his lead. “What were planning?”

“I thought I’d open the refrigerator and see what looked familiar,” Sam said with a shrug.

Castiel chuckled. “Why don’t you open up that cabinet and make friends with a box of cereal instead. That sounds much safer than messing with the stove.”

Sam stared down his nose at Castiel, trying not to notice his kiss swollen lips. “Don’t you think I can cook?”

Castiel thought for a moment then gave him a smile that tugged at Sam’s heart strings and said “I know you can. I just don’t want to start a fire trying to discover how much of it you remember.”

“And what if I never remember?” Sam asked, a hint of panic entering his voice.

“The doctor said the chance of that is virtually nil.”

“Doctors don’t know everything,” Sam argued.

“They know more about medical matters than you do. You’re probably just grumpy because your blood sugar is low. You’ll feel better after breakfast.

It wasn’t low blood sugar he was suffering from, Sam thought ruefully. It was acute sexual frustration and the only way that was going away was if he could make love to Castiel. But it wasn’t Castiel’s fault the doctor had denied them that outlet. In fact, from Castiel’s response tot he kiss, it seemed he was just as frustrated as Sam. And Sam was making it worse by acting like a spoiled brat. A sense of same filled him. If he wanted to convince Castiel that being married to him was a good idea, this was not the way to go about it.

“You’re probably right,” he said in as cheerful a tone as he could. “I’ll get the cereal while you get dressed.”

“Give me ten minutes to shower and change,” Castiel said, giving him a quick smile before hurrying to the bedroom.

He rushed through his shower and was back in the kitchen under ten minutes. Sam was sitting at the table, drinking coffee and staring out the window. He followed Sam’s gaze but didn’t see anything.

“What are you looking at?” he asked.

“This feels wrong.” He gestured to the table with the two bowls, two glasses of orange juice, and two bananas.

“Looks good to me,” Castiel said with a frown.

“Thanks,” Sam said with a small burst of pleasure at the praise. “But it isn’t how it looks that bothers me. It’ show it feels and it feels… _wrong_.”

Castiel felt a chill dance down his spine. Had Sam’s subconscious reminded him that Castiel wasn’t supposed to be here sharing breakfast? “How so?” he asked cautiously as he slipped into the chair across from Sam.

Sam tilted his head as he tried to find the right way to explain it. “Incomplete.”

“Probably because you don’t have a newspaper. You always read the paper with your breakfast,” Castiel said, remembering the habit from their business trips.

“Don’t you mind?” Sam asked uncertainly.

“No,” Castiel said honestly. “I like to read the paper, too. We can ask about a local delivery. There probably is one because you have a whole stack of papers under the sink waiting to be recycled.”

“That’s alright,” Sam said with a genuinely calm smile. “Now that I know why it feels odd, I don’t mind. Unless you want a paper?”

Castiel shook his head. “I’m alright without it.”

“Alright then. How about we go get our decorations after breakfast,” he said. “Then we can spend the afternoon hanging them.”

“Sounds good.” Castiel felt a happy warmth fill him. The act of decorating the cabin felt homey and the knowledge he got to do that with the man he loved made him feel good. It was going to be a wonderful day.


	8. Chapter 7

“Should I make a list?” Sam asked as Castiel as the younger man pulled out of the driveway.

“We already have one,” Castiel said. “I’m your administrative assistant, remember?”

Sam frowned as they pulled out of the driveway and headed in the direction of the town they’d found the evening before. He wondered uneasily if he treat Castiel like an employee even in their private life?

“You may be my administrative assistant at work,” he said, “but as far as I know, the only job description for a spouse is to love their spouse.”

If only he really were Sam’s partner, Castiel thought on a wave of longing. Sam would make a perfect husband. Kind, intelligent, and a fantastic lover. A flush rose on his cheeks as he remembered the kiss they shared.

Sam watched the color stain Castiel’s cheeks in frustration. If only he knew what their relationship had been like before the accident. He felt as if he were groping around in the dark trying to fight an armed enemy who had perfect night vision. A faint stab of pain lanced through his temple and the very faintness of it helped to ease his frustration. Just yesterday his reaction to any strong emotion had been a sharp flash of pain that lingered. Today, the pain was still there but it was definitely muted. He really was getting better, he realized. Everything Castiel had said was right. All he had to do was hang in there and everything would be fine.

He stole a glance at Castiel’s face, his eyes lingering on the firm set of his mouth as he concentrated on driving over the light dusting of fresh snow that covered the narrow, winding road.

At least, physically, everything would be fine. His emotional well-being seemed to be tied up in his husband. In some odd way, Castiel’s presence made him feel complete. Whole. And when he smiled at Sam, Sam felt as if nothing was beyond him. As if no task was too difficult for him to accomplish.

Maybe his present emotional dependence on Castiel was a result of the accident. He tried to analyze his reaction. They’d only been married for less than two months. He must have done all right before he’d known Castiel. Maybe, he conceded, but there was a whole lot of ground between doing all right and being happy, and he had the terrifying premonition that he’d never be happy again if Castiel wasn’t there.

_Don’t borrow trouble,_ he thought, trying to pull himself out of his melancholy. _If it’s out there, it’ll find you soon enough. You don’t have to go looking for it._

“What is your job description for a husband?” he asked, hoping to get some insight into how Castiel thought.

“What?” Castiel gave him a startled glance and then hurriedly refocused on the road.

“What do you want in a husband?” Sam persisted.

“You,” Castiel blurted out the truth.

Sam felt his tension loosen at Castiel’s reply. “But you must have had some expectations for a husband.”

Castiel frowned slightly, trying to sort out his feelings. “Not exactly. I mean, I never had a master list that I measured men by.”

“Then, generally, what were you looking for in a husband?” Money?” Sam heard the question emerge from his mouth in surprise, wondering why he’d asked.

“I’d be a hypocrite if I said that money wasn’t important, because speaking as someone who had to work his way through college, I can tell you the lack of it can be a real problem. But on the other hand, large sums of it aren’t necessary to be happy. I want a husband who works at a job or, at least, is willing to work at one. Sometimes the most motivated person in the world can find himself out of work due to circumstances entirely beyond his control.”

“True. Do you want to work?” Sam asked cautiously.

“Yes, I do,” Castiel said emphatically. “I spent seven years getting my degree and I fully intend to use it.”

“But what about children?” Sam asked. “Kids need a parent around.”

“But they also don’t need a parent over them twenty-four hours a day,” Castiel countered. “If both parents work at it, they can meet their child’s needs.”

“What are your parents like?” Sam asked.

“As I said last night, my father died when my brother and I were teenagers. When he was around, he treated home life like military life. House always had to be spotless, Jimmy and I had to make sure our beds were made tight and smooth… He would wake us a five in the morning to go for a run or to do some other work out.”

Sam frowned as an image of of a middle aged man with a graying goatee popped into his mind. “Did I ever see a picture of your parents?” he asked.

“No, why?”

“I just got an image of a man with dark hair and graying facial hair that looked kind of serious,” he supplied as the image faded.

“Well, since we were on the subject of fathers, I would guess that was your father John,” Castiel said.

“Oh,” Sam said with a nod. “And he died a few years ago, right?” When Castiel nodded, he gesture for him to continue. “What was your mother like?”

“My mother is very stern. A lot like my father except her focus wasn’t on the house or workouts. She harped on us about our schoolwork. Always made sure Jimmy and I studied hard and got the highest grades,” Castiel explained.

An image of a blond woman with blue eyes came to mind and Sam realized that was his mother since Castiel had said he’d never seen pictures of his husband’s parents.

“Did you just get an image of your mother?” Castiel asked when Sam remained quiet for a moment.

“I think so,” Sam said. “She’s dead, too?”

“Yes,” Castiel said, sorrow entering his voice. He didn’t like giving Sam so much negative information at a time.

“What about my brother? Did you ever meet him?” Sam asked.

“Dean is an ass,” Castiel muttered before he could stop himself.

“I take it you’ve met him,” Sam said dryly.

Castiel briefly weighed his options and, despite the fact that he didn’t like the unexpected turn the conversation had taken, decided to give Sam as much of the truth as he could.

“Yes, about a month after I began working for you,” he said, grip tightening on the steering wheel. “It was at a Christmas party the company threw. He heard about it and weaseled his way in.”

“So what happened?” Sam asked.

“Nothing. Dean asked me out, I went. It didn’t take long for me to figure out that the guy brought a whole new shade of meaning to the term ‘self-centered’.”

Sam felt a surge of relief at his words. From the sound of things, Castiel hadn’t liked his brother one bit.

They lapse back into silence for a moment then Sam asked out of nowhere “Do we have pets?”

“What?” Castiel laughed, glancing at Sam before looking back at the road. “Um, no, we don’t.”

“Do we like them?”

“I do. How you feel never came up.”

Sam thought for a moment then shrugged. “I think a dog would be nice to have.”

“Why don’t we wait until you’re better before introducing something else that needs to be looked after,” Castiel said with a smile.

When they finally made it into town, Castiel parked near a store bound to have Christmas lights and the two made their way across the parking lot.

“We’ve done this twice in two days,” Sam said. “Did we do a lot of shopping before?”

“We never did any shopping together,” Castiel said.

Sam considered his words as they crossed the parking lot. There seemed to be a lot of things they hadn’t done together. Was there anything they _had_ done?

He studied the pink of Castiel’s cheeks for a moment before his gaze slipped lower to the trench coat he wore. Castiel never seemed to pull it tight or tie the belt and Sam was afforded an unobscured view of his husband’s body. He felt a spark of want through his body.

Was that the cause of the odd vibes he kept getting from the other man? Had they married because of an overwhelming sexual attraction? And had Castiel found, after the initial attraction had begun to wear off, that they didn’t have a firm foundation of shared interests to build on? A surge of fear momentarily numbed his mind but he refused to let it grow. If that were the case, and he didn’t even know if it was, their time at the cabin would give him a chance to lay the foundation for their marriage. He already knew they shared an interest in work. And he knew Castiel still desired him. Those were two big pluses.

Sam pulled out a cart once more and Castiel chuckled behind him.

“Maybe we each should take one?” Sam said, eyeing the cart.

“Let’s start with the one and see,” Castiel said, laughing again. “We’re limited by the car’s size as to how much we can take home.”

Sam grinned as they made their way through the store to find the Christmas supplies. He loved hearing Castiel’s laugh and tried to think of ways to get the other man to do it again. When they reached the Christmas supplies, he went in search of the lights first.

“What kind of lights do we want?” he asked.

“What about those?” Castiel asked, pointing to a box of icicle lights. “I like that they look like ice to match the snow around the cabin instead of just plain bulbs.”

“Yeah,” Sam said thoughtfully, imagining how they’d look strung along the roof. “White or blue?”

“You choose,” Castiel offered.

“I think I like blue,” Sam said after a moment, reaching for couple boxes of blue ones. “Better to have extra than not be able to cover the whole roof,” he explained at Castiel’s confused head tilt.

“Do we need anything else?” he asked.

“Outdoor extension cords,” Sam said, eyeing the rest of the aisle then moving on to the next one in search of the object.

“I want to stop by the pharmacy while we’re here, too,” Castiel said thoughtfully, running through his mental list.

“No more medicine,” Sam protested. “My headache is virtually gone.”

“No more medicine,” Castiel agreed with a chuckle. “I was thinking along the lines of bandages and ointment for when you start trying to hang those up.”

Sam looked down his nose at Castiel, his eyes shining with humor. “Oh, ye of little faith.”

“Well, maybe if we’re prepped for cuts and bruises, we won’t have any,” Castiel countered.

They found the pharmacy and Castiel tossed in a box of regular Band-Aids then a gauze wrap, the ointment, and added a pad that could be used either hot or cold for sprains, and a bottle of aspirin.

“Do we need anything else?” Sam asked once all the first aid supplies joined the lighting equipment in the cart.

“I don’t think so,” Castiel said.

“Then let’s check out and go home,” Sam said, already turning around to head back toward the front of the store where the lanes were.

_Home_. The word sounded so very sweet to Castiel.


	9. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two chapters in one night! Unheard of for me!

* * *

When they paid for everything, they pushed their cart out to the car and began loading the trunk.

“What kind of cars do we normally drive?” Sam asked as he shut the trunk.

Castiel stopped mid motion, having intended to put the cart in a cart corral nearby. “Cars?” he repeated, wondering what had prompted the question.

“Surely you have your own car?” Sam said, moving toward the front seat.

Castiel hurriedly shoved the cart into a nearby corral then slid into the driver’s seat. “I drive a nineteen seventy-eight Lincoln Continental and you drive a two-thousand and six Dodge Charger.”

“I have a much newer car than you?” Sam asked with a frown.

“I like my car,” Castiel said firmly.

“I was just thinking we should get something like that,” Sam said, pointing to a minivan parked nearby.

“Why?” Castiel asked as he carefully pulled out of the parking lot onto the road.

“Well, what will happen when we have a kid? We need more room.”

Castiel felt warmth spark to life deep in his chest at Sam’s casual mention of them having kids. Hastily he tamped it down, forcing himself to face reality. Buying a few Christmas lights was one thing, letting him buy a car was something else. There would be no way to justify the expense when he regained his memory.

“I think we’d better wait until we have a kid before we start worrying about transporting it,” he said.

“I suppose that’s true,” Sam conceded.

They drove in comfortable silence for a while. Then Castiel caught sight of a blond-haired man coming out of the restaurant they were passing. He tried to get a better look without being obvious about it but he couldn’t. The man had turned slightly to study the headlines in the newspaper vending machines.

Castiel swallowed, trying to force down the sudden rush of fear he’d felt. It couldn’t have been Dean, he told himself. He didn’t know where they were. Did he? Nervously, he caught his lower lip between his teeth and tried to think. The only person he’d told was Gabriel and Gabriel wouldn’t give Dean the time of day. Not only did Gabriel dislike Dean personally, but Gabriel knew how Sam felt about his brother. Both loyalty and common sense would dictate that Gabriel not betray his boss.

But Sam had owned the cabin for years. Dean had to know about it.

 _You don’t know that was Dean_ , he tried to tell himself. _You only got a glimpse of him out of the corner of your eye. You only think it’s him because he’s preying on your mind._

“Is anything wrong?” Sam asked. “Are you sure you don’t want me to drive?”

Castiel made a determined effort to shake off his fears. Worrying about Dean wasn’t going to make him go away. “Believe me, I’m sure I don’t want you to drive. And nothing is the matter. I was just thinking.”

“Well, try thinking about something a little more cheerful,” he said.

Castiel nodded and forced a small smile. He’d try calling Dean when they got back and see if he was home, he decided. If he was, then Castiel would know he hadn’t been in town. If Dean wasn’t… That still didn’t mean it had been him, Castiel told himself. Just because he wasn’t in his apartment, didn’t mean that he was here.

“Maybe you ought to lie down for a little while when we get back,” Sam said.

“No, I’m fine. Besides, I want to get those decorations up this afternoon. It gets dark so early.”

“If you’re sure. How about if we put up the lights then toast marshmallows again.”

Castiel shuddered. “Why don’t we try cooking a proper meal, complete with all the basic food groups?”

“Are you trying to tell me that chocolate isn’t one of the basic food groups?”

Castiel chuckled. “Afraid not.”

“Please leave me with a few illusions,” Sam whined playfully.

Castiel bit his lip. Sam wasn’t going to have any illusions left at all once he found out about Castiel’s impersonation. But he was doing it for Sam’s own good, he reminded himself. He just hoped Sam would see it that way. At least eventually. Remembering how coldly furious he had been when Castiel handed in his notice, Castiel had no doubt what Sam’s initial reaction would be.

A half an hour later, Castiel pulled into their driveway, parking the car in front of the house to make it easier to unpack.

“Where should we put everything?” Sam asked as he got out and began unloading the trunk.

“Just set it in the living room and we can sort it later,” Castiel said.

When they had everything laid out in the living room, Sam pulled Castiel toward him, the shorter man letting out a squeak of surprise that had Sam chuckling. Sam dropped a quick kiss to Castiel’s mouth.

“I love you,” he said before letting Castiel go. “Lust after you, too, for all the good it does me.”

“Next month,” Castiel forced himself to whisper.

“I wonder if we have a stepladder,” Sam said thoughtfully as he looked at the boxes of lights. “If not, I suppose a kitchen chair will do.”

“A kitchen chair?!” Castiel gave him a scandalized look. “Those chairs are solid maple.”

“So? The maple tree they came from must have spent years outside in all kinds of weather.”

“Yes, but-”

“No buts, the lights go up today, even if we have to use a kitchen chair.”

“Okay,” Castiel sighed, reminding himself that it was Sam’s furniture. And if he didn’t care that it did double duty as a footstool, why should Castiel?

“I’ll go check the garage to see what’s out there,” Sam said.

“I’ll be out in a minute,” Castiel said, intending to check the phone messages at his apartment while Sam was outside.

Sam gathered the bags of lights and cords then hurried out the front door. The anticipation on his face made Castiel’s heart twist with tenderness.

He quickly pulled his cell phone from his coat pocket and dialed his apartment. The first message was from Dean. He swallowed and forced himself to listen to the words and not the annoying manner in which the message had been delivered.

His heart sank when he heard the message and quickly replayed the message.

“Hey, babe, that was clever, getting Sammy out of the way like you did. I’m going to search his apartment for the missing will. Just make sure you keep him there until after ten tonight. We wouldn’t want him to come back and find me here and realize why you were so keen to get him up to Montana, now would we?” Dean ended the message with a laugh that was an obscene parody of good humor.

There was absolutely no mistaking the threat in Dean’s words. Cooperate or else.

Castiel turned off his cell phone, replaced it in his pocket, and then sank down on the couch as he tried to think.

Dean was going to search Sam’s apartment this evening while Sam was safely out of the way here at the cabin. And in order to search Sam’s apartment, he would first have to break into it because Sam would never have given him a key. And if Dean were breaking into Sam’s apartment, that meant he was also breaking the law. He chewed his lower lip. He didn’t know if it was breaking or entering or burglary or something else but it was definitely illegal.

What would happen if he were to call the police and tell them he suspected someone was going to burglarize Sam’s apartment while he was away? The police would undoubtedly stake out the apartment and catch Dean red-handed. His spirits soared then plummeted when he thought about what would happen next.

Dean would undoubtedly claim that he was Sam’s brother and had a right to be there. The police would call Sam to verify the fact. And then what would happen? Sam wouldn’t remember his brother. Even if Sam asked Castiel what to do and Castiel urged Sam to press charges, Dean would never keep quiet. Not only would he tell Sam all sorts of lies about their supposed affair but Sam would be certain to find out they weren’t married. And there was no telling how that revelation would affect him physically or mentally. No, confronting Dean was a bad idea.

What would happen if Castiel did nothing about Dean’s message? He considered the alternative. If he just allowed him to search Sam’s apartment? Probably nothing, he finally decided. Since there wasn’t any will for Dean to find, he couldn’t find it. Nor would Dean find anything else that could cause problems. Sam was a scrupulously honest person. Castiel was sure there was nothing he did either personally or professionally that needed to be hidden away from public view.

Castiel grimaced in frustration. Much as he hated to let Dean get away with it, he didn’t have any choice. Stopping him would cause far more damage than letting him go ahead. There was one good thing though. That man he’d caught a glimpse of in town hadn’t been Dean. He might have somehow managed to find out where they were, but Dean himself was still in a whole other state.

“Hey,” Sam said, poking his head inside the front door. “Come on, Cas. I found a six-foot stepladder in the garage. Let’s go.”

Castiel’s heart throbbed at the nickname, wishing he would be able to heart it many more times. But Sam would remember everything and wouldn’t feel inclined to use nicknames.

“Coming.” Castiel jumped to his feet, only too eager to stop worrying about how he always came out on the losing end when dealing with Dean or how much he was going to miss Sam later.

Sam had set the ladder up at one end of the house and was waiting beside it with a string of icicle lights in his hand.

“I’ll hang lights. You hold the ladder,” Castiel told him.

“There is no reason I can’t just stand on the bottom rung to put them up,” Sam argued. “This house isn’t very tall.”

“A fall is a fall is a fall,” Castiel said stubbornly.

“And a fanatic is a fanatic is a fanatic,” Sam grumbled.

“I’m not strong enough to catch you if the ladder slipped in the snow. You could catch me though,” Castiel said, trying logic.

“I’m sure you’re stronger than you give yourself credit for,” Sam said, eyeing Castiel up and down, making the smaller man blush.

Castiel swallowed to relieve the sudden dryness in his mouth as Sam moved closer, stopping inches in front of him.

“We should be sure.”

Castiel could only hum a slight response, unsure what Sam was talking about and not really caring. He was too caught up with the excitement of being close to Sam, with breathing in the heady scent of his cologne which was mixed with the chilly crispness of the afternoon air.

He let out a surprised squeak when Sam suddenly swooped in and lifted him into his arms. “What are you doing?” he blurted out.

“Making sure I really can rescue you.” His voice was serious but his eyes were gleaming with suppressed laughter.

 _And who’s going to rescue me from you?_ Castiel wondered. Certainly not his own common sense which wasn’t even making a token protest.

“What do you think?” Sam asked. “Am I up to the job?”

“I’ll say,” Castiel muttered then froze as Sam’s mouth swooped downward to plant a kiss to Castiel’s lips. His arm tightened, binding Castiel closer to his chest. Instinctively, Castiel clutched his neck and pressed himself closer, his lips parting.

Sam’s tongue was quick to take advantage of his invitation and he began a leisurely exploration of the inside of Castiel’s mouth.

A slow, burning warmth washed through Castiel, sending a flush over his cheeks.

Sam dropped a last kiss to the tip of Castiel’s reddened nose and gently let him slide down the length of his body until Castiel’s feet touched the ground.

Castiel locked his knees to support his trembling limbs. He found it absolutely amazing that this man’s kiss could be so different from all the other men he’d kissed in his life. But then, Sam was the only man he’d ever been in love with. It really did make a difference when you were in love. And it was going to make a big difference in his life when he was no longer there, he thought grimly.

“Why so solemn?” Sam asked uncertainly.

“I’m cold,” Castiel fibbed. “We better get on with this so we can finish before it gets dark. Or before one of us freezes to death. Whichever comes first.”

“Right.” Sam reached into his pocket and pulled out a packet of white plastic clips. “The directions say to hook these over the eaves and then hang the lights on them.”

Castiel studied the hooks for a moment, looked up at the eaves, and then back down at the lights. “I can handle that,” he said.

Ripping the package open, he scrambled up the ladder, attached the hooks, and then the lights. Rather to his surprise, not only was it relatively effortless, but it was quick. With Sam’s help, he completely outlined the small house in an hour and a half.

Castiel picked up the empty boxes and carried them into the garage for storage while Sam plugged the extension cords into the outside outlets.

“Ready for the official lighting?” he asked when Castiel returned to the front of the house.

“Ready!” Castiel replied with a grin. “Give it your best shot, Edison.”

Sam chuckled and obediently plugged in the cords.

“Oh, my,” Castiel gasped, momentarily dazzled by the brilliance of the colored icicles hanging off the house. “They’re gorgeous.”

“It is nice, isn’t it?” Sam studied the house. “Do you think we need more?”

Castiel eyed it critically. “No, I think it’s perfect.”

Sam picked up the ladder and started around the house toward the garage. Castiel followed along behind him. He held the door for Sam while Sam replaced the ladder where he’d found it.

“What kinds of things do we do for fun?” Sam asked.

Castiel hastily searched his mind and came up with a couple of things they had done while on business trips.

“We both like concerts and dining out and old book stores,” he said.

Sam got a flash of a small, well lit store full of books accompanied by the smell of old and new books. It made a small smile spread across his face.

He swept a look around the deck across the back of the house. “It looks pretty dim back here. Maybe we should light it up some.”

“Couldn’t hurt. How about if we get some more lights and wrap that tree?” Castiel asked, pointing to the tree in the backyard.

“That would be pretty,” Sam agreed. “No icicles. Something different for the tree.”

“Yes, more icicles would be too repetitive, I think,” Castiel agreed.

“Why don’t we get a fire going and then we can roast marshmallows and hot dogs,” Sam said, making his way toward the back door to go back inside.

“Deal,” Castiel agreed.

Castiel lit the fire this time, remembering the way they’d done it the night before, while Sam fetched the pokers and food from the kitchen.

“That fire looks like it’s going well,” Sam said, settling down beside Castiel. “After dinner, we can snuggle up and...” He trailed off as he looked around the living room as if he were searching for something.

“What’s wrong?” Castiel asked.

“We don’t seem to have a CD player. Or a television or even a radio. I wonder why?”

“Maybe you didn’t like distractions?” Castiel offered.

“Wouldn’t I at least want access to the weather? And some music would be soothing in the evenings,” he added. “We can get a CD player, a selection of CDs, and a television tomorrow when we get the lights for the backyard.”

Castiel blinked at the amount of money Sam was spending. He might not be too happy about it once he regained his memory. But then, there were so many other things he was going to be furious about when he regained his memory that money wasn’t going to be very high up his list. Besides which, Sam had never been a stingy man. Not professionally and not personally.

Castiel just hoped Sam didn’t turn out to be a vengeful man or he was in deep trouble.


	10. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Three in one night?! I'm so on a roll! :D This is only happening because I'm on vacation from work though. But it makes up for the delay in posting since I wrote "Morning Gift."

* * *

Sunlight shone on Sam’s face, waking him from a restful sleep. He rolled away from it and snuggled deeper into his warm bed and bumped up against the yielding body beside him. His eyes shot open in surprise and he found himself staring into Castiel’s sleep relaxed face. His entire body tensed at the intoxicating sight. Castiel was so gorgeous he thought as he hungrily studied his soft, slightly parted lips. If he were to lean forward just a little, he could brush his lips against Castiel’s and…

Castiel? He gasped as a feeling of vertigo swept over him, giving him the disconcerting feeling that he was falling. He froze as his memory came rushing back in a confusing tidal wave of jumbled events, emotions, and totally unrelated trivia. He pressed his lips together to hold back his rising nausea. After a few interminable minutes, the sensation of not being in control of his own thoughts passed and he tried to make sense of what had happened.

The accident. That was the place to start. He’d hand an accident. He winced as his mind obligingly supplied an image of a large silver truck skidding toward him. Sam frowned, trying to remember what had happened immediately after that but he couldn’t. All he could remember was a car as big as a mountain coming toward him. The next memory he was able to come up with was of Castiel’s white face leaning over him. He had looked frightened and intent, but why he was frightened and what he seemed so set on Sam didn’t know. Nor could he be positive that he actually had seen Castiel. Maybe he was simply imagining it. Hadn’t he read somewhere that traumatic events played tricks on one’s memory? And things didn’t get much more traumatic than being mowed down by a car.

As Castiel muttered and shifted slightly in his sleep, Sam tensed, not wanting the other man to wake up. He desperately wanted to get everything straight in his mind before h had to face Castiel. To his relief, Castiel simply snuggled a little closer to him and continued to sleep.

Determined to figure out what was going on, Sam forced his mind back to the accident and carefully traced what he could remember. But instead of clearing up his confusion, what he remembered simply increased it. Castiel must have claimed to have been his husband at the scene of the accident since the hospital believed it. But why had he done it? Sam couldn’t come up with a single good reason. Castiel had already given his notice. He was due to leave in…

Sam tried to remember what day it was but he couldn’t. The time around his accident was too confused. He wasn’t sure how many days he’d lost. But even so, his accident would have released Castiel from working out the rest of his notice. He could have left Sam in the hospital and flown home to Illinois on his original ticket. But he hadn’t done that. Why not was the question. What could he hop to gain by pretending to be Sam’s husband?

Plenty, Sam thought. If he thought Castiel was his husband then he would have allowed the other man access to his bank accounts. And they were substantial. But he hadn’t drained any of the accounts, Sam conceded as he mentally reviewed the last few days. All they had bought was a bunch of Christmas decorations and that had been Sam’s idea.

Castiel wasn’t stupid. He had to know that any financial gains he expected to make would have to be done quickly because that doctor had been very specific about his memory returning at any time.

But there was a second problem with that theory, he realized. When Castiel had originally claimed to be Sam’s husband, he couldn’t have known that Sam was going to lose his memory. So why make the claim in the first place?

Unless… Could Castiel feel something for Sam? A sudden jolt of excitement slammed through him before his common sense doused the idea. If Castiel felt anything for Sam, he wouldn’t have quit. And he had. Very forcefully.

Sam felt like throwing something. Something heavy. None of this made any sense. Especially not Castiel’s sudden resignation when just the week before, they’d been making plans about what they were going to do with the company in spring.

Although it did make sense if Castiel had taken the job as his administrative assistant with the intention of trapping him into a relationship and had then resigned when he’d believed he wasn’t making any progress. Castiel should have waited a few more weeks, Sam thought with a sour tasted in his mouth. A little more patience on Castiel’s part and he would have been rewarded by seeing him make a monumental fool of himself.

But even if all that was true, and even if Castiel had claimed to be Sam’s husband to try to take financial advantage of him, the fact still remained that he hadn’t. And Sam hadn’t a clue as to why not.

Castiel moved slightly and Sam tensed. He had to figure out what he was going to do about the bizarre situation he found himself in and he had to do it fast. Basically, he had two options, he decided. He could tell Castiel he’d regained his memory, or he could continue to pretend to have amnesia. If he told Castiel he had his memory back, then it was over. He’d never know why the other man had begun the pretense in the first place. He would always be left wondering if Castiel was simply a predatory, greedy man, or if there was more to the impersonation than that.

And Sam wanted to know. All he had to do was to play dumb a little longer. Give Castiel a little more time to make his move and then Sam would know. For sure. He wouldn’t have to guess. He couldn’t keep the pretense up indefinitely because he had a company to run but he could manage it until after Christmas, he finally decided. And, if nothing else, it would give him memories of one holiday spent with the man he loved.

Sam went rigid as he realized the word his subconscious had used. He didn’t “love” Castiel, he told himself, fighting his emotions. Loving Castiel would be a disaster. He would just leave Sam. Hell, he was already planning on leaving Sam.

Cautiously, Sam eased himself out of bed. He hurriedly dressed and quietly slipped out of the room. He made his way to the kitchen and started the coffee. In the time it took to brew, Castiel had woken and dressed, and now stood in the doorway, wearing snug jeans and blue sweater that made his eyes shine. As far as Sam was concerned, the only way he’d look better was naked under him, eyes lust hazed and lips parted with rosy cheeks. He licked his lips at his suddenly dry lips.

“Is your head bothering you?” Castiel’s question yanked Sam out of his delightful daydream.

_Careful, Winchester, don’t let him suspect anything is different this morning or it’s all over. He’ll take off like a rabbit and you’ll never have any answers._

“No, just a little cold.”

Castiel nodded and moved past him to get his own cup of coffee. When he turned around, Sam was staring at him with an intense expression on his face. Castiel recognized that look. It was one Sam wore when he was perplexed by something and determined to get to the bottom of it.

Could Sam have regained his memory? A sudden feeling of dread iced his skin. He was imagining things, he assured himself. If Sam had regained his memory, he would be demanding to know what was going on. And he wasn’t. He hadn’t even made any oblique references to the situation.

“Breakfast?” Sam asked. “We can plan our day while we eat.”

Castiel relaxed at his words. “How about oatmeal?” he said as he got the box from the cabinet.

“Sam eyed the small packet Castiel was emptying into a bowl. “Better make that two for me,” he said. “Have we got any doughnuts to snack on while we wait?”

“You’re only waiting ninety seconds,” Castiel said dryly.

“Doughnuts are food for the soul,” Sam countered.

“Well, we don’t have any. Make do with your oatmeal.” Castiel set the steaming bowl in front of Sam.

Sam added some milk and started eating with a sense of satisfaction. He’d done it! Castiel hadn’t realized that he had his memory back. Now all he had to do was keep it up. That and figure out how to get him to tip his hand. But how could he do that?

“Don’t look so sad,” Castiel said. “If you really want doughnuts, we can get some while we’re in town.”

“We’ll stop at the bakery,” Sam absently agreed.

Castiel felt a sudden stab of unease at his words. “What bakery? Did you remember something?”

Sam cursed his careless words. This was going to be harder than he’d thought. “No,” he lied. “The waitress at the restaurant mentioned that was where their pies came from. It was while you were getting that prescription filled.” And making that phone call you didn’t want me to know about, he remembered.  
“Oh.” Castiel relaxed at his explanation. “So what are we going to do today?”

“We’re going back into town. We’ll find a place that sells electronics and get a CD player, a television, and anything else that appeals to us. Anything you particularly want?” Sam watched Castiel closely to see if the other man took advantage of his offer to buy him something.

To his surprise, Castiel ignored the offer.

“Maybe we should rent all that stuff,” he said. “It seems like a lot of expense and, if you’d wanted them in the first place, surely you would have already bought them?”

“Do we have any financial problems you’ve been keeping from me?” Sam asked, curious as to what Castiel would say.

“I meant it when I told you that you can afford to buy anything you want, but that doesn’t mean you’re going to approve of having spent a lot of money once you regain your memory,” Castiel explained.

“ _I_ can afford? Tell me, since I can’t remember the wedding ceremony, have they changed it?” Sam couldn’t resist pushing. “Doesn’t it go something like ‘with all my worldly goods I thee endow’?”

Castiel frowned. “How did you know that?”

“Oh, I know lots of facts. It’s remembering personal facts that gives me trouble,” Sam said.

“Oh, the justice of the peace that married us might have said that but I was too nervous to remember.”

“Maybe we ought to get remarried now So can at least remember that ceremony,” Sam said.

“No!” Castiel blurted, ruthlessly suppressing the sense of longing that flooded him at Sam’s unexpected words. “We can get married again once you regain your memory,” he said to soften his refusal.

Sam winced at the uncompromising tone of his rejection. Clearly, he didn’t want to marry Sam so what the hell did he want? Sam gritted his teeth against an urge to ask him and struggled for a light tone.

“Tell you what. Since you’re worried about me spending my money, how about we spend the half of my money that I bequeathed to you?” he finally said.

“You sound like a lawyer, not a businessman,” Castiel said.

“Please, no insults so early in the morning. Do you remember what time the stores open?”

“Most everything should be open by ten. That’s a pretty standard time.”

Sam checked his watch. “Okay. Let’s get more Christmas lights and more extension cords then we can see about the other stuff.”

“Okay,” Castiel agreed, feeling faintly uneasy. For a moment Sam had sounded exactly like Sam had sounded before his accident. Decisive and focused.

Uncertainly, he stared at Sam. Maybe it was simply that with each passing day he was becoming more and more himself? It made sense. At least, it made as much sense as anything in this whole mess did. Maybe he could…

He lost his train of thought as he suddenly heard his cell phone ringing.

“What’s that?” Sam turned and stared into the living room where Castiel had left the phone sitting on an end table.

“My cell phone.” Castiel hurriedly got to his feet. “It’s probably just a friend. That or Gabriel calling with an update on the business.”

He hurried into the living room, grabbed the phone, and answered it. To his dismay, it was neither a friend nor Gabriel. It was Dean’s voice that scraped irritatingly across his nerves.

“The damned will wasn’t there!” Dean immediately launched into a complaint. “I took his apartment apart piece by piece, and it wasn’t there. It must be at the cabin, I tell you.”

There were a lot of things Castiel wanted to say, starting with he wished Dean wouldn’t tell him anything ever again and ending with he wanted Dean to disappear down a deep dark hole. But he couldn’t for several reasons – not the least of which was the fact that Sam was standing behind him, listening to everything he said. Sam might have lost his memory but there was nothing wrong with his wits. Castiel absolutely couldn’t say anything to make him suspicious. A little investigation on Sam’s part and Castiel’s impersonation would collapse around him.

“Answer me, dammit!” Dean yelled.

“I didn’t realize you’d asked a question.” Castiel kept his voice level with a monumental effort.

“Don’t act any dumber than I already know you are! It has to be at the cabin.”

“It isn’t,” Castiel insisted.

“And how would you know?”

“I looked,” he lied.

“You probably weren’t looking in the right places. Get Sam out of there and I’ll do the job right. I flew up last night after I realized he had to have stashed the will at the cabin. I can be there in half an hour.”

Castiel’s heart sank at the appalling information. The very thought of Dean pawing through his belongings made his skin crawl. Not only that, but Sam would be bound to notice if the cabin was searched and he would call the police and who knew what might come to light if they got involved. Somehow, he had to stall Dean.

“I’ll look again, alright?” he persisted, trying to keep Dean at bay for a while longer. He didn’t think a notarized letter from God would be enough to convince Dean to give up his obsession with the fictitious will.

“See that you do,” Dean snarled and then slammed the phone down.

“Who was that?”

Castiel turned at the sound of Sam’s voice to find him watching him with an alert expression that made Castiel very nervous. Had Sam heard Dean through the phone? Or was he simply making conversation?

“Just a friend.” It was odd, Castiel thought unhappily. He didn’t mind in the least lying to Dean. But he hated the necessity of even shading the truth with Sam. He wasn’t sure if it was because Sam was such an ethical man himself or if it was because Castiel was head over heels in love with him. But whatever the reason, he hated ling to Sam. “If we’re going into town, let’s get going.”

Sam studied Castiel’s pale features for a long moment, feeling his frustration grow. That hadn’t been any friend he’d been talking to. Or, more accurately, listening to. He hadn’t really contributed that much to the conversation.

But who was he talking to? Sam didn’t think Castiel was seeing anyone. He certainly hadn’t mentioned anyone before and, for that matter, when would he have found the time for a man in his life? They’d been working horrendous hours since August.

And his body language hadn’t been that of someone talking to a lover. Sam’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully. Castiel had been tense throughout the whole conversation. Almost as if he were afraid. Anger shot through Sam. Who had dared to threaten Castiel? And what were they threatening him with? Certainly not his past.

He’d had Castiel thoroughly investigated before he hired him. His life to that time had been blameless to the point of boredom. And ever since he’d hired him, Castiel hadn’t had the time to get into any trouble.

Impotent frustration filled him. So much was at stake and he not only didn’t know the rules of whatever game Castiel was laying, he didn’t even know all the players.

“Sam?” Castiel asked uncertainly, worried about the emotions he could see flitting across the other mans’ face but couldn’t read. Clearly he had some doubts about Castiel’s explanation of the phone call – doubts Castiel had no way of alleviating without causing yet more complications.

“Sorry.” Sam forced his worries to the back of his mind. “I was just thinking about our plans.”

Castiel relaxed slightly at his words. “We should get going then.”

Sam smiled and stepped over to him, giving in to the impulse to take Castiel into his arms. He gathered him close to his chest and nestled his face into his hair. Castiel smelled so delectable. No matter what else happened, he would always remind him of spring. Or of new beginnings.

“You’re dallying,” Castiel murmured, lost in the heady sensation of Sam’s strong arms around him.

“Dallying?” Sam asked with a chuckle.

“It’s as good a word as any,” Castiel muttered.

“Oh, no. I can think of much better words.”

“You can?” Castiel felt his breathing constrict at the sensual glow building in Sam’s eyes.

“Definitely. Let me see.” He pretended to contemplate the idea. “I think one of my favorites is _kiss_.”

“Kiss?” Castiel muttered.

“Like this.” Sam’s mouth closed over Castiel’s.

A tremor shot through Castiel, sending shivers coursing over his skin. Before he could properly enjoy the sensation Sam lifted his head and continued.

“And there’s _kiss_ ’s close cousin _nuzzle_.” He lowered his head and explored the spot behind Castiel’s left ear with his lips. Castiel jumped at the sensation and Sam’s arms tightened.

“That’s quite a family.” Castiel’s voice came out as a breathless squeak.

Satisfied, Sam dropped his arms and stepped back. Whatever else was going on, Castiel wasn’t indifferent to him physically. He liked it when Sam kissed him. Sam was positive of it.

“But you’re right. We should get going to get the Christmas lights.”

“Christmas lights,” Castiel repeated as he struggled to pull his competent professional persona around him. He couldn’t. The best he could come up with was a semi-competent helper. One who was in eminent danger of losing his head over Sam. The thought sobered him. This wasn’t going to last. As soon as Sam regained his memory, Castiel would be gone. Probably gone with his condemnation ringing in his ears. He had to keep some mental distance between them or the pain would be all the worse.

But how? How was he supposed to do that when Sam kept touching him?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My favorite part comes up in the next chapter. :D


	11. Chapter 10

Castiel raised his eyebrows at the colored sugars Sam was dropping into their grocery cart.

“Red and green are the usual colors one associates with the season,” he said. He picked up a container of pale violet colored sugar and studied it. “This looks like it was left over from last Easter.”

“Sugar keeps,” Sam said. “It’ll still be good come spring.”

 _Which was more than could be said of him_ , he thought grimly. Castiel would be gone by spring. Would be gone by Christmas if Sam admitted to having regained his memory. So why didn’t he just tell Castiel and get it over with? Why drag the parting out? Because he wanted to know Castiel’s motivation for the impersonation. He refused to delve any deeper than that. Besides, this would give him a chance to do all sorts of things he normally couldn’t or shouldn’t do. Like kissing Castiel. Sam’s eyes dropped to Castiel’s delectable lips and a curl of anticipation unfurled in him. Not knowing any better absolved all kinds of behavior.

“Although, this blue is very pretty, particularly next to the bright pink,” Castiel said, turning the container to one side to study the hue.

Sam watched Castiel’s slender fingers grip the container, wishing they were touching him. Wishing his fingers would caress his body. Wishing… He blinked as he suddenly realized something.

He knew Castiel wasn’t wearing either an engagement ring or a wedding ring because they weren’t really married. But Sam wasn’t supposed to know that. Surely a man who thought he was married to someone would ask why their spouse didn’t have on a ring? And Castiel’s answer might give him a clue as to what Castiel was planning. If the other man jumped at the chance to get an expensive ring out of Sam…

“You aren’t wearing any rings,” he said. “Why not?”

Castiel looked up from his study of the various sugars, caught off guard by Sam’s totally unexpected words.

He could hardly tell Sam the real reason he wasn’t wearing rings. Which left yet another lie. But which lie? Should he tell Sam he had taken them off and… And what? Left them somewhere? Lost them? That hardly sounded like a loving spouse, and he did love Sam, even if Sam wasn’t his husband.

“We got married rather suddenly,” he improvised, “and never got around to buying rings.”

“Well, it’s time we did.” Sam started pushing the cart toward the checkout line. “I want everyone to know that you’re mine.”

“We can see to it once we get home,” Castiel said, trying to stall.

“They don’t have jewelry stores in Montana?”

“That’s not the point.”

“Then what is?” Sam demanded. Perversely, the more Castiel tried to talk him out of it, the more determined he was to do it.

“You don’t remember me. Not really. Wedding rings should be bought by people who are sure of what they are doing and with whom they’re doing it,” Castiel said, struggling to come up with a reason Sam might accept. This had the added benefit of being how he felt about the act.

“Okay, I’ll compromise. No wedding ring until I get my memory back. We’ll just get an engagement ring. Unless you’re ashamed to tell the world we’re committed to each other?” Sam said.

“Oh, no, of course not!”

The unmistakable sincerity in his voice startled Sam. He sounded as if he really liked Sam. But if Castiel really liked him then why the hell was he leaving? A sudden flash of pain sliced through his head at the paradox. Nothing about this whole situation made any sense and it was really starting to get to him. If it was the last thing he did, he was going to get to the bottom of it.

“What’s wrong?” Castiel asked urgently when he saw him wince.

“Just a twinge of pain,” Sam said honestly. “It’s gone now. Come on, let’s get this stuff paid for.” He started loading their supplies onto the checkout conveyor.

Castiel helped him, grateful at least that he had talked him out of buying a wedding ring. He just wished he’d been as successful with the engagement ring. It was going to be very painful to wear Sam’s ring for a few days and then have to give it back.

Sam took the receipt for the groceries that the clerk handed him, shoved it in the pocket of his jeans, and started pushing the cart toward the door. Castiel followed him out of the store, shivering as the bitter wind pounced on him.

“Bet we have snow later on.” Sam gestured toward the heavy gray clouds that loomed overhead.

“Kind of looks like it, doesn’t it?” Castiel said, casting his gaze up toward the sky. “We can check the local weather once we get the radio you bought plugged in.”

“Wait till I get that satellite dish installed and the television hooked up,” Sam said with a grin as he began to load the groceries into the trunk. “Then we can track the storms.”

“Once _I_ get the satellite dish installed,” Castiel corrected. “ _You_ are not going up a ladder.”

“My head is fine,” Sam muttered, closing the trunk. “Doesn’t hurt anymore.”

“But what if you fall,” Castiel countered. “You could further prolong your amnesia or what if you hit your head and then it never comes back?” He may not want this to end but he’d never wish further harm to Sam.

“I’ll be fine. If it makes you feel any better, you can come up with me,” Sam offered. “Do either of us know anything about construction?” he asked.

“The extent of my building knowledge is how to replace a light bulb,” Castiel said. “And I haven’t a clue about you. I’ve never seen you do anything like that.”

“I don’t think we need to worry. That salesman said that an eight year old could install the dish,” Sam said.

“That is not comforting” Castiel said dryly. “The average eight year old can run rings around any adult when it comes to operating electronic equipment.”

“Come on.” Sam took Castiel’s arm and started across the grocery store parking lot toward the shops that lined the street.

“Where are we going?” Castiel asked.

“I told you. We’re going to get you an engagement ring.”

“I still think we should wait till we’re back home.” Castiel tried one more time to stall.

“No,” Sam said succinctly. “I want to buy one now.”

Castiel lapsed into silence, not knowing what else to say. Flatly refusing to go along with this would worry Sam and stress him out. Castiel bit his bottom lip in frustration. At the rate things were going, he was the one who was going to be suffering from an overdose of stress. And it would reach critical proportions once Sam regained his memory and found out what Castiel had done.

Maybe he should pretend to suddenly feel faint and ask to go home? No, not faint. Sam would insist on driving. Maybe… nauseous. That was it, he decided. Once they were in the store, he would claim he felt queasy and tell Sam they could get the ring the next time they were in town. Then all he had to do was to make sure there was no next time.

Sam paused in front of the shop windows to study their displays while Castiel tried to decide if he should pretend to be ill now or wait until they were actually inside. He glanced around the street, looking for an inspiration and then froze when he caught sight of the blond man loitering across the street. Surely that wasn’t…

It was! His heart plummeted and his stomach twisted painfully as he recognized who it was. What was Dean doing stalking them? Dumb question, he answered himself. He was trying to increase the pressure on Castiel. Not that it was necessary. A little more pressure and he had the scary feeling he was going to crack. For the first time in his life, he truly understood that old saying about having a tiger by the tail. And there was nothing he could do about it.

There was no appeal that he could make to Dean that would suddenly turn him into a decent human being. And there was no way he could suddenly wave a magic wand and restore Sam’s memory to him so that he could deal with Dean. And even if he could do that, he didn’t want to, he conceded honestly. He wanted these few days with Sam. Needed them to build an emotional bulwark against what promised to be a lonely future.

When Dean smirked at Castiel, he hastily placed himself between Sam and the sight of his brother.

“Let’s go check this place out.” Sam opened the door to the jewelry shop.

Castiel was as eager now to go inside as he had been to avoid the place minutes ago.

“May I help you?” The bored looking pudgy man leaning on the counter suddenly straightened up at the sight of them.

“Yes, we want to see some engagement rings,” Sam said. Turning to Castiel, he said, “I like something with a little color to it. What about you?”

“Zircons are nice and they’re hard to distinguish from the real thing if you aren’t an expert,” Castiel said in a last-ditch effort to get Sam to change his mind. Instead, what he got was two sets of disapproving eyes focused on him.

“Real stones are an excellent investment,” the salesman told him.

“But suppose I lose it?”

“We’ll insure it,” Sam said.

Castiel stifled a sigh. He had the odd feeling that he’d completely lost control of the situation. Not that he’d ever had total control to begin with. But for whatever reason, the upper hand had shifted to Sam and Castiel didn’t know why. Unless it was the fact that Sam’s natural personality was coming more and more to the surface as time passed. And there was no denying that Sam was a forceful man used to getting his own way.

Castiel glanced over his shoulder to check on Dean’s whereabouts and discovered him right outside the window. His stomach lurched. Damn! Was Dean nuts? Even given that he was trying to scare Castiel into cooperating with him, common sense should tell him not to let Sam see him. But then from what Castiel had seen, Dean and common sense didn’t even have a nodding acquaintance.

“Just a moment while I get our better rings out of the safe.” The salesman hurried into the back.

“Do you want yellow gold or white?” Sam asked.

“Umm.” Castiel struggled not to glance over his shoulder again.

“Don’t look so worried. I can afford it. You told me I could afford to buy anything I wanted and I want to buy the man I love an engagement ring,” Sam said, secure in the knowledge that he could say them without any consequence. All he had to do was claim he had only said he’d loved Castiel because he’d thought he was married to the other man.

“I like silver,” Castiel finally said, trying to at least go a step down in expense.

“So white gold,” Sam said decisively. White gold and silver looked similar enough.

“Here we are.” The salesman bustled back, cutting off any chance Castiel had to protest Sam’s decision. He set down a tray of engagement rings on the counter and rubbed his hands together rather like a pudgy genie about to perform some magic. “Now, do we want a stone or no stone? I’ve catered to male-male couples before and each ring buyer is different. Some like simple bands, some like stones like feminine rings.”

Castiel started to say no stone, but Sam got in first. “Stone.”

The salesman picked up a white gold band that was thicker than feminine engagement rings. Instead of the stone setting on top of the ring, it was set into a curved dip in the band. The diamond looked to be a good two karats. “It’s pretty and it’s set in white gold.”

“Unless you’d prefer something with more stones to it?” Sam asked.

Castiel swallowed the lump in his throat as he looked at the delicate beauty of the exquisite ring Sam was holding. “No, one stone is perfect. Not too busy.”

“Do you like it?” Sam sounded hesitant, and Castiel rushed to reassure him.

“I think it’s absolutely gorgeous, but it also must be…” He glanced uncertainly at the hovering clerk.

To his surprise, the man not only realized the reason for Castiel’s hesitation, but tried to help. “We have a similar ring with a slightly smaller stone that might appeal to you more.” He held up a ring that was about one-fourth the size of the one Sam had picked out.

“No!” Sam said emphatically. The more Castiel tried to talk him out of it, the more determined he was to buy it. “I like the first one. Try it on.”

Castiel held his breath as Sam slipped it on his finger.

“It’s a perfect fit,” Sam said in satisfaction. “And it looks gorgeous on you.”

Castiel stared down at it through the tears in his eyes. He wanted so much for this to be true that his chest ached.

“Castiel?” Sam noticed the tears glistening on the smaller man’s eyelashes, completely confused by the reaction. Castiel should have grabbed the ring with both hands. But he had not only tried to talk Sam out of it, he looked about ready to cry once Sam had succeeded in forcing it on him. Sam didn’t understand any of this, and it made him feel faintly frantic. “If you really don’t like that one…”

“I love it.” Castiel’s voice came out muffled from trying to control his emotions. “It’s absolutely perfect.”

Sam took him in his arms and gently placed a kiss on his lips. “Then it’s yours.”

“Thank you.” Castiel gave up the argument. He could always return it once Sam regained his memory. In fact, he wouldn’t have any choice. The return of the ring would undoubtedly be the first thing Sam would ask for.

“We’ll take it,” Sam told the waiting salesclerk.

“Yes, sir,” the clerk said with satisfaction.

As well he should, Castiel thought ruefully. It couldn’t be every day that someone bought a diamond ring of that size without even pausing to ask the price. He mentally winced at the thought of what it must cost. But precious stones really were a good investment, he told himself. After Sam regained his memory, he could resell it or something. As long as he never gave it to another man!

A blinding surge of jealousy pulsed through Castiel at the very thought of another man wearing his engagement ring. It didn’t matter that he knew he was being illogical, that under normal circumstances Sam would never have given it to him. What mattered was that Castiel had accepted it with love. In some strange way, it was his and would always be his, even if he never saw it again once Sam took it back.

Pulling out his wallet, Sam extracted his platinum credit card and handed it to the clerk.

“I won’t be but a moment.” The man disappeared into the back again.

“Probably gone to check if the card will take the charge,” Castiel observed.

“I’d have written a check but I don’t know how much is in my checking account,” Sam said.

“I would expect not enough to pay for this, whatever it is,” Castiel said. “You’re much too smart a consumer to leave that kind of money sitting around in a non-interest bearing account.”

“Am I?” Sam’s lips twitched at Castiel’s earnest expression.

“Most definitely. That’s one of the reasons why you’re making such a success out of the business. Because you know how to use money.”

Uneasily, Sam wondered what kind of success he was making out of his personal life. Not only was the man he wanted poised to leave him, but he couldn’t trust him. It was just too bad that emotions couldn’t be set in neat rows and added and subtracted logically like numbers could. Then he might have a chance of straightening out this mess. But there was one thing he was becoming more convinced of with each passing hour he spent in Castiel’s company: Castiel was either the greatest actor that had ever lived or he felt something for Sam. His response every time Sam kissed him convinced him of that. But what Castiel truly felt and how deep it went Sam had no idea.

The clerk came out of the back of the shop again, carrying a credit slip and wearing a slightly apologetic smile. “If I could just see your driver’s license, Mr. Winchester,” he said. “The credit company insists I double check your identity because of the size of the purchase, you see.”

“Certainly.” Sam took out his driver’s license and handed it to the man.

The clerk checked the signature against the credit slip and then covertly compared the picture on the license with Sam. “That seems to be in order,” he said, handing the license back to Sam. “May I tell you how much I have enjoyed doing business with you both. It is rare to find someone who knows exactly what they want.”

Oh, he knew what he wanted all right, Sam thought grimly. He wanted Castiel. He just didn’t know if getting him would be setting himself up for a lifetime of being used.

“Thank you,” Castiel murmured when Sam didn’t reply.

“Do come again,” the man urged as they left. “We carry a large line of jewelry for the discriminating buyer.”

“I take it that ‘discriminating’ is a euphemism for ‘expensive’,” Castiel said dryly once they were outside. “May I ask how much this ring cost?”

“No, you may not,” Sam said succinctly. “It is a pledge of my love and a hope for the future. I refuse to put a price tag on something like that.”

Castiel swallowed the tears clogging his throat. He was finally getting all the words he had ever wanted to hear from Sam and he wasn’t in his right mind. Life could be very cruel sometimes. Or else it really was totally capricious and there really was no rhyme or reason to anything that happened.

“What are you looking so somber about?” Sam asked. “Are you having second thoughts about your choice of ring?”

“No!” All the pent up longing and frustration Castiel was feeling exploded in that single word.

Sam was startled by the reaction. He had the odd feeling he was missing something vital, but for the life of him was unable to figure out what it was. In some respects Castiel’s thought processes were a closed book to him, a book he would give a lot to be able to read. He sighed.

“What’s wrong?” Castiel caught the soft sigh. “Does your head hurt?”

“No, it doesn’t hurt that much anymore. Just an occasional twinge. I was just thinking about Christmas,” Sam lied.

“That’s no reason to sigh. Although,” Castiel continued thoughtfully, “apparently a lot of people do find the holidays depressing.”

“I imagine they could be rather off-putting when everyone and his uncle seems to be part of a happy family and you aren’t,” Sam said.

Castiel responded to the pain he could hear in his voice by giving him a quick hug. “You have me.”

Sam kissed dropped a quick kiss to Castiel’s mouth. The shorter man’s lips tasted cold with an under current of warmth that he found intriguing.

“You know what we need to go with our Christmas cookies?” he said as they walked back to the car.

Castiel chuckled. “You mean besides the stereo and the television and the satellite dish and the radio and the DVD player?”

“Those are simply necessities of modern life. I was referring to another Christmas tradition. We need a tree.”

“A tree?” Castiel repeated.

“A real one that smells of pine.”

“And drops pine needles all over the carpet?” he said.

“All part of Christmas.” Sam dismissed the inconvenience.

“There speaks a man who has never run a vacuum in his life!”

Sam grinned at him. “That’s slander. And I’d prove it if I could remember my past. As it is, you’ll just have to take my word for it.”

“Forget words, I want deeds!”

“Oh.” Sam’s lips formed a sensual smile that sent Castiel’s heartbeat into overdrive. “You were the one who put the moratorium on our sex life.”

“The deed I was asking for was you running the vacuum to pick up the pine needles that fall,” Castiel said in a slightly breathless voice.

“It’s a deal,” Sam promptly accepted. “We’ll stop at that garden center we passed on the outskirts of town and get a tree and all the junk one puts on it.”

“You’d better have the tree delivered,” Castiel said. “The ornaments we just might squeeze into the car.”

“I don’t know if they deliver and besides I don’t want to wait that long,” Sam said.

“We’ll tie it to the roof of the car. You should have let me get a minivan.”

“At the rate you seem bent on acquiring things, a full size pickup truck would make more sense,” Castiel; said.

“All right,” Sam gave in. “In the meantime, we’ll just have to make do with the Mercedes.” He inserted his key in the car’s lock and opened the door for Castiel.

“Make do?” Castiel muttered with a look around the luxurious interior. Most people could never afford something like this and he talked about making do with it? Sometimes he didn’t understand Sam at all. All the money he had, all the money he made, and it didn’t seem to matter to him. Castiel had the feeling that Sam would be exactly the same man if he didn’t have a penny to his name. The essential part that was Sam Winchester was not tied up in his financial worth. He…

The sun peeping out from behind the heavy cloud cover shot through the windshield, illuminating his hand. His ring seemed to gather the sun’s rays to it, returning it in a rainbow of colors. His breath caught in his throat at the beauty of it.

“What the matter?” Sam asked as he slipped into the passenger seat.

“My ring. Look.” He moved his hand to intensify the phenomenon. “Isn’t it fantastic?”

“Yes,” Sam agreed, his eyes on the hand wearing the ring. Castiel had such capable hands. Capable and competent and beautiful. It was his mind Sam couldn’t seem to get a handle on.

Castiel looked across at Sam and his breath caught in his throat at the expression on his face. He looked so confused. Unable to resist the impulse, he leaned across the wide seat and kissed Sam and then hastily retreated as the fact of his actually instigating a kiss registered.

“Thank you, husband.” Sam gave him a smile that made him feel as if he had just won the lottery. “To the garden center.”

“To the garden center.” Castiel started the car and pulled out of the lot. “But I want you to sign an indemnity paper for any damage that tree might cause to the roof of the car once we get home. I intend to wave it at you if the car rental people want a new paint job.”

“Your wish is my command.”

Sam relaxed back against the seat, feeling at peace with the world. He knew it was illogical because he still didn’t have a clue as to what was going on. But despite that, he was happy. He was out with Castiel and, when they were done shopping, they would go home. Before, the cabin had simply been a place to stay while he was in Montana. But Castiel’s presence had changed all that. Now it was a refuge from the world. A welcoming place.

Their stop at the garden center was enormously successful. Sam picked out a nine foot tree and then proceeded to fill one of the garden center’s carts with lights and glittery bulbs and garlands. He even had to hold a couple of the bags of bulbs on his lap on the trip home because the rest of the car was stuffed to capacity.

Castiel slowly pulled into the driveway of the cabin and gently applied the brakes. “Thank heavens we made it,” he muttered. “I kept having this horrible feeling that if I had to hit the brakes, the tree would shoot off the roof over the hood and we’d crash into it.”

“I tied that tree down myself.”

Castiel grinned at him. “Like I said, I kept having this fear…”

“Next year, you can do it.” Sam carefully shifted his bags of ornaments as he got out of the car.

Castiel grabbed a couple of bags from the back seat and followed him. “You leave it up to me, and I’ll buy an artificial one,” he said.

Sam shuddered. “Sin.” He turned and looked back at the car. “You know,” he said slowly. “You don’t tend to realize how big a nine foot tree is until you put one on your car.”

Castiel followed the direction of his gaze. He was right. That was an awful lot of tree. “We still have to untie it and carry it into the house. And then we have to set it up,” he said.

“Worse comes to worst, we can drag it inside. And setting it up won’t be a problem. That tree stand we bought said anyone can do it.”

Castiel took the bags from him while he opened the front door. “I’ll...” He broke off as his cell phone which he’d left on an end table suddenly rang. His heart plummeted. It was probably Dean. It was inconceivable that he would see Castiel in town and not call to make more demands. He licked his dry lips, not wanting to answer it but also not wanting to ignore it and make Sam suspicious.

“Here.” Sam reached over and picked up the phone and handed it to Castiel.

Castiel held it up to his ear, took a steadying breath, and muttered, “Hello?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The ring shopping is my favorite part. :D It's adorable! Only one chapter to go...


	12. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it, guys. We'll see the final confrontation with Dean in this chapter and, of course, Sam and Cas will make up. There's no way I'd give this anything but a happy ending.
> 
> This chapter came out to a little over nine pages in my word document but I had no idea where to break it up. In the future, I might come back and edit this to break up chapters a bit if I can.
> 
> I'd like to say a thanks to anyone who has commented and faved and left kudos. Thanks for sticking around and reading a WIP. I know how frustrating it can be to like one of those and have the author not finish or take a long time TO finish. I'd like to thank any future readers who may comment and fave and drop kudos.
> 
> I really especially want to say thanks to OddCatGuy for all the comments. It rarely took longer than an hour or two after I posted a chapter to get an e-mail about a comment from you. And you commented for nearly every chapter! You kept me going and helped me want to finish this so thank you.
> 
> I'm toying with the idea of a sequel but I make no promises. I would have no idea where to take them and I think this story is maybe one that is best left as it's own world. Besides, I have "Morning Gift" and "I Need You" to work on. And I'm also writing another Sastiel (one I'm not posting as I go and working on most of it before I being posting) and I have my job which I have to go back to in a few days.
> 
> Anyway, here's the final chapter of "Did You Say... Husband?"

 

* * *

Relief flooded Castiel when he heard the light voice of Sam’s vice president.

“Gabriel, what may I do for you?” he asked.

Sam frowned, wondering what Gabriel wanted. The company should be running on automatic with the holidays so close. He briefly considered listening to Castiel’s end of the conversation and then decided that he wasn’t all that interested. If it was something important, Castiel would tell him about it, but at the moment he had more important things to do. There was the car to finish unloading, the electric equipment to set up, and the tree to decorate.

He had dragged the tree into the living room, leaving a trail of pine needles across the wood floor, brought the electronic equipment in, and was almost done unloading the trunk when Castiel came outside to help him finish.

“That was Gabriel,” he told Sam as he picked up a sack of groceries.

“Oh?” Sam took the last back of groceries, slammed the trunk closed, and followed Castiel into the house. “Did he want anything in particular or was he just checking in?”

“In particular.” Castiel carried the bag of groceries into the kitchen. “He said that the owner of the company that manufactures electrical components of some of the items you manufacture called him.”

Sam put the butter in the fridge, stacking it on the bottom shelf. He still thought they should have gotten more. Five pounds didn’t seem like that much for cookies. “They did?”

Mistaking his curiosity for confusion, Castiel went on to explain. “You tried to buy them last year and the owner refused. According to Gabriel, he called this morning and said he and his wife have decided to sell the company and retire while they’re still young enough to do the things they’ve always wanted to do. So he’s giving you first offer on the company. Gabriel doesn’t know what to do. He knows you want it, but he doesn’t feel they can make him an offer without you signing off on it first. Plus, he’s not sure how high you’re willing to go to get it.”

Sam felt a momentary flash of pleasure at the realization that he’d finally be able to buy the company he’d wanted for a year. But his pleasure quickly ebbed at the thought that if he bought it, he’d have to run it. He’d have to deal with the day to day problems that would inevitably come up. He wouldn’t own it, it would own him. Or more accurately, it would own a big chunk of his time.

Slowly, Sam put the colored sugars away in the cabinet as he considered the idea. He didn’t want to invest a lot of time in yet another company, he realized with a slight sense of shock. He didn’t want to take on anything else that would eat into his free time. He’d much rather spend that time with Castiel. Because he loved him; he could no longer deny the reality of his feelings. He was in love with a man whose motives were a complete mystery to him.

“Gabriel called me to ask what I thought,” Castiel continued.

Sam made a monumental effort to sound normal. This wasn’t the time to make Castiel suspicious. Besides, the fact that he had these feelings for him didn’t really change anything, he told himself. If there relationship was ever to have the slightest chance of developing into anything worthwhile, he had to find out why the other man was pretending to be his husband and why he’d so abruptly resigned.

“What did you tell him?” he asked.

“I told him I’d talk to you.”

“I don’t feel any burning urge to buy anything like that,” he said honestly.

“But you don’t feel _any_ burning urges at the moment,” Castiel said in frustration. He’d always prided himself on being the type of administrative assistant who was up for anything. But nothing he had learned in either school or the business world had prepared him to deal with a situation like this.

“Oh, I wouldn’t say that.” Sam’s deep voice sent shivers through Castiel. “My urge to make love to you borders on incendiary.”

Castiel flushed, wishing with all his heart that Sam really meant it and wasn’t just conditioned to think he should make love to Castiel because he thought they were married. “Be serious,” he muttered. “This is business.”

“A singularly boring subject compared to making love to you,” Sam said.

“What should I tell Gabriel about the offer?”

“Tell him I’m not interested,” Sam said as he began to put away the rest of the cookie making supplies in the cabinets.

“Today, you aren’t,” Castiel conceded. “But who knows about tomorrow. You could regain your memory at any time and then what?”

“I think I’ll manage to live beneath the crushing blow of not getting them.” And it was true, he realized. No matter what happened between him and Castiel, one thing his accident had taught him was that there was more to life than just work.

Castiel studied him uneasily. Sam had sounded very emphatic when he’d said that. Very normal. The problem was that while his tone was normal, what he was saying wasn’t. The entire time Castiel had known Sam, Sam’s whole focus had been on expanding his company. On growing. On being the biggest and the best in the field. It made no sense that a temporary loss of memory could produce a complete reorientation of priorities. And for that matter, what were his new priorities? And the moment, they seemed to consist of creating new holiday memories. And he was doing a good job of it.

A smile curved Castiel’s lips at the thought of all of the decorations Sam was putting up. He brought the same intensity to having fun as he did to business. Would he bring that same intensity to making love? Castiel’s breath caught in his throat at the thought.

“I don’t know what to do,” he finally said.

Sam took him into his arms, pulling him close to his chest. “You can quit worrying is what you can do.” He pressed his face into Castiel’s hair. It smelled wonderful. Like ripe peaches in the summer sun. He moved his head slightly so he could nuzzle the skin behind Castiel’s ear. “Neither you nor Gabriel has the ability to do anything, anyway,” he said, wanting to dispose of the subject of the offer once and for all. He felt Castiel tense in his arms.

“How do you know that?” the smaller man asked.

_Careful_ , Sam told himself. _Don’t make him suspicious._ ”You’ve already said that I own the company outright. Therefore, it makes sense that I would be the only one that could make that kind of decision. And since I didn’t expect to have the accident, I certainly wouldn’t have made provisions for a transfer of power.”

“No, I guess not,” Castiel said slowly. He had an unsettling feeling that he was missing something important but unable to figure out what exactly. Then Sam’s warm lips trailed over his cheek and found his mouth and all thought ceased. His heart began to race and there was a ringing in his ears that…

Ringing? That was his cell phone.

“Damn!” Sam’s expletive mirrored Castiel’s feelings exactly.

“I’d better answer it,” Castiel said reluctantly. It’s probably Gabriel calling back to find out what you had to say.”

“Tell him I don’t want it.” Sam reluctantly let Castiel go and followed him into the living room, hoping to resume that kiss when Castiel had gotten rid of the caller.

“How about I tell him to stall in stead?” Castiel asked. “To talk to them but not to commit to anything. Then when you get your memory back, you can make your own decisions.”

“Okay, just try to be quick. We have lots to do.”

Castiel smiled at him as happiness surged through him. The things they had to do were simple things, but they meant so much when done with the person one loved. The only way it could be better would be if he and Sam were really married and, after they’d finished, they could light a fire and make love in front of it.

Expecting to hear Gabriel’s light, pleasing tones, it was a shock to hear Dean’s deep, angry voice.

“I found out what you’re up to,” Dean said.

Castiel shot a surreptitious glance toward Sam. To his relief, Sam was taking the tree stand out of the box. “And what’s that?” he asked.

“Don’t play coy with me, babe. I saw what you conned out of Sammy in that jewelry store. You’re using the situation to get everything you can out of him. The only difference between you and me is I think big,” Dean preened.

Castiel swallowed nervously. It sounded as if Dean knew Sam had lost his memory but how? _Don’t panic and above all, don’t volunteer any information_ , he told himself. Dean could be guessing. Hoping to surprise Castiel into a damaging admission.

“You meet me in town in half an hour and I’ll tell you what you’re going to do,” Dean ordered.

“I’m not sure-”

“I am,” Dean snarled, sending Castiel’s anxiety level into the roof. “I’ll be at the restaurant across from the drugstore. Don’t make me come after you,” he hissed before hanging up.

Castiel stared down at the floor as he tried to think. He couldn’t get past the self-satisfaction he’d heard in Dean’s voice. The elder Winchester was very sure of himself, but why? Did he really know that Sam had lost his memory or was he referring to something else? And if it was something else, then what?

_Damn_ , he thought in frustration. There wasn’t a single part of this whole mess that he had a handle on. Not even his own emotions.

He stole a quick glance out of the corner of his eye at Sam. What excuse could he give Sam to go back into town when they’d just spent he whole morning there? Keep it general, he finally decided. Generalities were harder to counter.

Castiel rubbed his head which was beginning to ache with the tension gripping him. He took a deep breath and said, “I have to go back into town. I forgot something at the drugstore.” He watched Sam look up from unpacking ornaments and narrowed his eyes at him which made Castiel nervous. Just because Sam had lost his memories didn’t mean he’d lost his intelligence.

“You want to go all the way back into town?” Sam repeated, wondering who had been on the phone to upset Castiel so much. And he _was_ upset. Sam could almost feel the tension radiating from the other man. It couldn’t have been Gabriel again. His response to that phone call had been simple frustration at not knowing what to do. But this phone call…

Sam stared into Castiel’s shadowed eyes. Castiel was afraid of something or someone. Sam felt a surge of anger that he suppressed to keep hidden. He wanted to smash whoever had upset Castiel, to make sure they never bothered him again. But first, he had to find out who it was and what hold they had on him. And he couldn’t do that if he stayed behind at the cabin. He had to be there to judge the situation for himself.

“Okay,” he said. “I’ll come with you.”

“But you were just in town,” Castiel said, trying to discourage Sam.

“I want to get a few more ornaments for the tree,” he said, grasping at the first excuse that sounded vaguely plausible. “We didn’t have enough room in the car to get everything I wanted. I can do that while you pick up what you want at the drugstore.”

Castiel saw his determined expression and knew he wasn’t going to be able to talk him out of it. Not only wouldn’t it work, but Sam would surely be suspicious if Castiel tried. And maybe he really did just want to get more ornaments. It was possible. He’d been eyeing an ugly plastic Santa lawn ornament that Castiel had only managed to dissuade him from purchasing by pointing out that they had no room in the car. Maybe Sam was simply using the opportunity to buy it.

“Alright,” Castiel agreed, not having any choice.

The drive into town was silent. The silence increased Castiel’s unease into nauseating levels. He felt relief when they neared the town. All he wanted was to get this meeting with Dean over with. To stall him to give Sam a few more days to heal. A feeling of panic chilled his skin at the thought of what might happen if he couldn’t accomplish that.

“Are you alright?” Sam asked. “You look pale.”

“I’m just cold,” Castiel said. “It’s a little colder today.”

Sam didn’t bother to point out that while it _was_ cold outside, the car was pleasantly warm. And had been the entire ride into town. A surge of frustration filled him. If only he knew what was going on, he’d have a better chance of helping Castiel, but the other man was hardly likely to confide in him. Not when he thought Sam still had amnesia. And if he admitted he didn’t, it would catapult them into a whole new set of problems. No, he might not like spying on Castiel, but he had to find out what was going on.

“Why don’t I drop you off at the garden center?” Castiel offered.

“Just drop me off at the drugstore. I can walk to the garden center and then you can pick me up there when you’re finished.”

Castiel pulled into the drugstore and parked. “I’ll come pick you up shortly.”

“Take your time,” Sam said. “I want to have a good look at the lawn decorations.”

Castiel gave him a weak smile before he went into the drugstore. He stopped by a display near the front to watch out the window. To his relief, Sam immediately headed down the street in the direction of the garden center. He let his breath out in a long, relieved sigh. Apparently, all he really wanted to do was to buy one of those plastic monstrosities. The trouble with keeping secrets one desperately wanted to keep was that one began to suspect everyone else had secrets as well.

He counted to fifty before exiting and walking toward the restaurant.

Pausing just inside the front door, he quickly scanned the almost empty diner. Dean was sitting at a table in the back. Reluctantly, he forced himself to walk toward him.

“It’s about time you got here,” Dean snarled.

“And a good afternoon to you, too,” Castiel retorted, knowing it would be fatal to let Dean realize how nervous he was.

“I hate being kept waiting and you better not forget it in the future,” Dean snapped. “Now shut up and sit down.”

Much as Castiel wanted to hit him upside the head with the hardest thing he could find, he forced himself to sit. He couldn’t afford the luxury of telling Dean exactly what he thought of him.

From his vantage point in the doorway of the store down the stretch, Sam watched Castiel leave the drugstore and go into the diner. Following him, Sam cautiously peered into the window trying to see what Castiel was doing. As he watched, Castiel headed toward the only occupied table in the back.

His stomach clenched when he recognized the man siting there. It was his older brother. Castiel was meeting Dean! A red haze of fury momentarily dimmed his vision. The man he loved had something going on with his brother?! The man he loved was…

Was what? His intellect fought down the rage burning inside him with logic. _Think, Winchester_ , he told himself. _Don’t jump to conclusions._

He moved away from the window and looked dimly at the window display next door as he tried to think. He suddenly remembered something Castiel had told him while he’d still had amnesia. Castiel knew Dean. He’d said they’d met a Christmas party. He’d also said they’d dated. The thought left a bitter taste in Sam’s mouth. But Castiel had also claimed to have broken up with him. But if that were true, then why was Castiel meeting Dean here?

Trying to appear casual, he inched back in front of the restaurant window and peered inside. Castiel was sitting across from Dean but even from this far away, he looked tense enough to break. Sam gritted his teeth in frustrated anger. What was going on? If Castiel didn’t want to be around Dean, and that was certainly what his body language was screaming, then why had he come running when Dean had called?

Sam didn’t know but he was going to find out. Now. The time for playing games was over. He headed for the door.

Inside, Dean grabbed Castiel’s hand and said, “Beautiful ring you got out of him, babe.”

Castiel wrenched his hand away.

“I saw you both going into the jewelry store and watched through the window. I must say, I never would have thought you had the brains. But tell me, babe,” Dean smirked, “how are you going to get him to marry you before he remembers that you’re just his assistant?”

Castiel took a deep breath, trying to determine if Dean really knew about Sam’s amnesia or if he was just guessing and was just waiting to see if Castiel reacted. It was possible. Dean had made deviousness an art form.

“What are you talking about?” he asked.

“I’m talking about the accident back in Kansas. About you telling everyone there you were his husband. You sure were quick to see the possibilities.”

The admiration in his voice infuriated Castiel but he knew there was no sense in explaining why he’d done it. Dean wouldn’t believe him. In Dean’s mind, there was no such thing as an altruistic motive.

“How did you find out about the accident?” he asked.

“Gabriel’s secretary told me all about it,” he said smugly. “It’s amazing the things she’s told me and all for the price of a couple diners and a few vague promises. When she told me about the accident, it was easy enough to find out the rest.”

Castiel was torn between pity at the woman’s gullibility and anger at her willingness to betray a trust.

“Now, this is the way we’re going to play it, babe. I’m going to move into the cabin with you and Sammy to search for the will. It has to be there because it sure as hell isn’t anywhere else,” he growled.

“At this point, a rational man might entertain the idea that there is no will,” Castiel said tiredly.

“There is,” Dean hissed. “Dad would have never leave the company to Sam. I was his favorite. Anyway, you’re going to get him to write a check for a hundred thousand,” he continued.

Castiel took a deep breath and said, “No.”

Dean ignored him. “And once I’ve found the will, I’ll fly back to Kansas and use the check to stall my creditors.”

“No,” Castiel repeated. “I won’t do it.”

“Listen, babe, there’s plenty of money for the both of us if you...”

“No,” Castiel repeated for the third time.

“Listen, bitch-”

Sam felt almost light headed with relief as he got close enough to the pair to hear the conversation. Castiel wasn’t conspiring with Dean against him. He was trying to shield him from Dean. But even if Castiel wasn’t involved with his brother, it didn’t mean that he loved _him_. The sobering fact dampened his initial elation.

First, he’d get rid of Dean once and for all. Then he’d get to the bottom of Castiel’s resignation.

“There you are, Castiel.”

Sam’s deep voice flooded Castiel’s mind, creating conflicting emotions: fear that a confrontation with Dean might prolong his recovery, and relief that he was there.

“Sammy!” Dean gave his little brother a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “The minute I heard about your accident, I flew up here to see you! There’s a business transaction that just can’t wait and I need you to write me a check for a hundred thousand. I was just discussing the issue with Cas, wasn’t I?” Dean gave Castiel a warning glare.

Castiel shuddered at the use of his nickname on Dean’s lips. He didn’t even consider taking the out Dean offered him. Much as he wanted to spend even a few more hours with Sam, he wasn’t willing to ally himself with Dean to do it. It would be a betrayal of everything he felt for Sam.

He swallowed back the tears clogging his throat. He’d always known his time with Sam was limited. He just hadn’t figured Sam would find out what he’d done in a public place.

“You have no business with Dean,” he said flatly. “He’s trying to use your amnesia to steal from you.”

“Sammy, listen to me. I’m your brother. I have your best interest at heart. Why do you think I came when I heard about your accident and discovered that your administrative assistant was pretending to be your husband?” he said, feigning shock at the idea that Castiel would do such a thing.

Castiel shivered at the expression on Sam’s face. His features looked as if they’d been carved from stone.

“And how did you find out about my accident?” Sam asked.

“Apparently, Gabriel’s secretary thinks she’s in love with him and keeps him informed of what’s going on,” Castiel said when Dean didn’t say anything.

“I had to come rescue you, Sammy,” Dean said. “I blame myself for you getting mixed up with Castiel in the first place. When he found out that our affair wasn’t going to end in a marriage proposal-”

Dean’s words ended in a strangled gasp when Sam’s large hand closed around the front of his shirt and tightened, cutting off his air supply.

“You’ve got a few things wrong, big brother,” Sam hissed. Castiel shivered at Sam’s icy tone. “First, I am not suffering from amnesia.”

Castiel shot Sam a quick glance, wondering if he was telling the truth. And why hadn’t he reacted to Dean’s claim that they were lovers? Given his almost paranoid not to get involved with anyone that worked with him, he should have reacted to that claim first. Castiel’s eyes seemed glued to the grim set of Sam’s mouth. Unless he was waiting to get Castiel alone before he said anything to him? He shuddered at the thought of the confrontation yet to come.

“But he said...” Dean sounded confused. “You have to be. Otherwise, why would you buy him a huge diamond? And why are you still up here instead of flying back to Kansas and negotiating to get that newest deal?”

“Gabriel’s secretary has been busy, hasn’t she?” Sam snapped and Castiel felt a flash of pity for the woman. Sam did not like his trust violated. “The second thing you’re wrong about is Dad’s will. While I don’t doubt that he would have given it to you if he could have, it wasn’t his to give. His leaving it to me in his will was a cover to hide the fact that he didn’t own it. Why it mattered to him what anyone thought, I don’t know.”

“It was too his!” Dean insisted. “Mom owned it then when she died when we were kids, Dad took over! I checked!”

“If you’d bothered to go far enough, you’d have found that Mom never owned it either. Grandfather Campbell owned it and left it to us on the condition that we finish college but that we weren’t to be told of the condition. He didn’t want us to base our choices on the promise of gaining ownership of a company and wealth. _You_ chose not to go to to college. _I_ did. Dad could run it until he died, but when he did, it would go to whichever of us went to college. It we both had, it _would_ have been yours as the oldest.”

Dean’s eyes widened at the realization that he’d lost his chance. All because he’d thought college wasn’t for him. He’d seen Sam’s grades as they’d grown up. Sam was clearly the smarter one with academics. Dean was good at fixing things and doing stuff with his hands. But if he’d just finished college – for _anything_ , really, he reasoned – he could have owned it.

“I don’t believe you!” he whispered, his face ashen. “That can’t be true.”

“I don’t give a damn whether you believe me or not. I’m going to tell you this once and only once,” Sam hissed. “If you ever come near me or my company again, I’ll slap a restraining order on you so fast your head will spin. Brother or not, you’ve been a lying, scheming rat ever since I took over the company and I am done dealing with it.” Turning to Castiel, he grabbed his arm and hauled him to his feet. “Come on.”

Castiel forced himself to follow when every instinct he had to was urging him to run in the opposite direction. Away from the anger he could see burning in Sam’s eyes. Away from the explanations he was going to demand and wouldn’t like once he got them. But he’d lived his life with the basic philosophy that you make your choices and you pay for the consequences. He just wished that the bill for this particular choice wasn’t going to be so high.

As Sam led him out of the restaurant with his arm in a vice like grip, Castiel tried to shake the feeling that he was being escorted out under guard but couldn’t. He felt like a condemned prisoner. But there was one advantage of this mess, he told himself as he tried to match Sam’s longer strides. He no longer had to worry about what to do. The initiative had been taken from him. Sam held all the cards. All that remained to be seen was how he intended to play them.

Sam unlocked the passenger door of the Mercedes, bundled Castiel into the seat, and hurried to the driver’s side, almost as if he were worried Castiel would escape. Once inside the car, he didn’t make any motion to start it. He simply put his hands on the steering wheel and stared out the windshield.

Castiel studied his trembling fingers and shuddered at the indication of the fury hiding in Sam’s eyes.

“Do you really have your memory back?” he asked quietly.

“Yes.” Sam bit the word out.

“For how long?” Castiel whispered.

“Since yesterday morning.”

Why hadn’t he said something then? Why let Castiel go on thinking Sam still had amnesia? One look at Sam’s face made Castiel think twice about asking.

“I want an explanation,” Sam finally said.

Castiel swallowed, trying to decide where to begin. He immediately focused on the thing that Dean had said that bothered him the most. “I was never Dean’s lover. When we first started dating, he seemed...” He struggled to explain what he’d felt when he’d first met the elder Winchester. “Charming and… I don’t know exactly.”

“You were attracted to him?” Sam asked in that voice that sent shivers down Castiel’s spine.

“I was,” he admitted. “We dated for a few moths but the more I was around him, the more the feeling grew that there was nothing there beyond the surface charm. We broke up because he wanted to go to bed and I refused.” Castiel held his breath, praying Sam would believe him but not expecting him to.

“Why?”

“Because sex isn’t a game,” Castiel said. “It’s a deadly serious act that can lead to consequences. Perhaps there is no threat of a child between two men but there can be other consequences. Physical, if one or both are not truthful about their sexual pasts. Emotional and mental... I have no doubt Dean would have used sex against me if given the chance and I firmly believe it is an act one should only do with the person that one loves.”

“I see.” Sam felt some of the tension leave him. What Castiel said meshed perfectly with the man Sam had come to know over the last six months.

“Dean was waiting for me in the parking lot the day before you got back from your last business trip,” Castiel continued. “He said he’d run through the money your father left him and started rambling about a missing will. He demanded I help him find it or he’d tell you we were lovers.”

“And that’s why you resigned? Dammit, Castiel!” Sam snapped, giving vent to his frustration. “Couldn’t you have told me what was going on?”

Castiel winced at the anger he could hear in Sam’s voice. “How could I? The office knows you’re against getting involved with anyone you work with. They also know how much you hate Dean. If I told you he was threatening me, you’d find out that I really had dated him and in a sense, we did spend the night together and he had the receipt to prove it. But I slept on the couch in the sitting room while he took the bed.” He sniffed back the tears he felt in his eyes. He would not cry. It would be too humiliating.

“Why did you pretend to be my husband?” Sam abruptly switched topics.

“Because I was afraid they’d delay treatment for you until they could locate your next of kin to sign a release. I wasn’t sure whether Dean was listed but I was sure he wouldn’t help,” Castiel explained.

“That explains why you did it at the hospital but why didn’t you tell me the truth when we were safely at the cabin? You could have had me talk to Gabriel. He would have backed up what you told me about Dean.”

For a moment, Castiel entertained the idea of using the doctor’s warning about stress but he squashed the thought as soon as it arose. It wasn’t true. Not really. And he’d already lied so many times to Sam. It was time for the truth, no matter how embarrassed it made him. Not only did Sam deserve the truth, but Castiel’s love for him demanded he tell it.

“I didn’t tell you because I love you and I couldn’t pass up the chance to pretend to be your husband for a few days. The last few days I’d get to see you.” He stared at his hands, unable to look at Sam and see the condemnation in his yes. Or the pity.

“You love me?” Sam repeated incredulously. “And you resigned?!”

“It seemed like my only option,” Castiel muttered. “Everyone knows how you feel about getting involved with anyone you work with and nothing you’d said led me to believe you’d changed your mind.”

Agitatedly, Sam shoved a hand through his hair. “I think my heart knew from the beginning you’d be different. It just took my head longer to figure it out. And then you resigned and I didn’t know what to think. If you ever pull a stunt like that again...”

“Does that mean I can have my job back?” Castiel whispered, wide eyes finally locking on Sam. He wasn’t sure if that was a good idea or not. How could he go back to treating Sam like a boss when he’d spent the last few days being his husband?

“With certain modifications,” Sam said slowly, almost afraid of putting his desires into words for fear of having them rejected. Taking a deep breath, he said, “I want you as my partner.”

“Partner,” Castiel repeated incredulously.

“But you have to marry me first,” Sam finished in a rush, nervously waiting for Castiel’s answer. He might claim to love Sam but that didn’t mean Castiel was willing to marry him. To stay with him and put in the effort necessary to build the kind of enduring, solid marriage Sam wanted.

“Marry you!” Castiel’s voice broke at the intensity of his feelings. “But… But why?”

“Because I love you.”

Castiel heard the words through a haze of joy that momentarily rendered him speechless.

“Cas, I want to make your world perfect. I want to raise a family with you. I want your face to be the firs thing I see in the morning and the last thing I see every night.”

“You make my world perfect just by being in it,” Castiel said simply. “And I would love to be your husband.”

Elated, Sam started to reach for him and hit his arm on the steering column. The frustrated expression on his face made Castiel chuckle. He felt light headed with the intoxicating mix of happiness and relief. Sam’s entire body clenched at the joyous sound. He felt as if he’d explode if he had to wait much longer to kiss the other man. To taste him. To make him Sam’s in every sense of the word.

“Let’s go home.” He bit the words out impatiently.

“Home?” Castiel repeated, focused on the tension he could feel pouring off Sam.

“Yes, home.” Sam shot him a quick glance, his eyes lingering hungrily on Castiel’s lips. “So I can show you exactly how I feel about you. I intend to kiss every inch of your body.”

The light in his eyes made Castiel’s breath catch and made his skin tingle with desire. “I can hardly wait,” he said with a smile, snuggling deeper into the leather of the Mercedes as Sam started the car and pulled out into the street.

Surely there could be no greater pleasure in this life, he thought as he studied Sam’s beloved profile, than to love and know yourself loved. And to be free to express that love.


End file.
